Tears and Rain
by Gabi-hime
Summary: Seta Soujiro walked away from the ruins of a smoldering empire looking for answers to questions he had difficulty even asking. Yet even the simplest incidents can give people the will to live . . . First Runnerup Fanfic of the Year 2001 RKRC Awards
1. Entrance of the rabbit girl: What the ra...

Tears and Rain

Chapter 1: Entrance of the rabbit girl: What the rain brings

By Gabi (gabi@pinkfluffy.net)

I'd like to thank everyone who voted for me in the RKRC Awards from the bottom of my heart ^_^ I was a total dark horse candidate in that and the fact that I won first runner up in Fanfic of the Year really warms my heart ^_^. I love you all! That having been said, onto the fanfic ^^.

The road was deserted. He'd passed no one the entire day. Now, as dusk drew on, he wondered if he would be sleeping out in the open again. There was a faint rumble of thunder and he glanced at the sky to see ominous clouds, dark on the horizon. 

"It looks like I'll be sleeping outside in the rain again," he observed aloud to himself. Some things would never change. 

Still, despite the threat of rain, the boy travelling along the lonesome road was smiling in a peaceful, relaxed manner. He looked travel worn, but the miles he had walked did not make him look any older. His gi was a little worn around the sleeves, and his tabi were becoming quite thin over the heels, but his face was still that of a boy's. His hair was gray black and cropped close to his head, and his eyes were a clear and unclouded blue. With his benign smile, and slight figure, he looked no older than fourteen. 

Travelers he passed often wondered how a boy his age had become a ronin. Even this far into the Meiji Era, he still carried a katana thrust through his obi. He had no wakazachi, but the katana alone was enough to warn most people away from him. He didn't travel in major cities, so he had yet to have a dispute with the police, but he knew very well that the presence of a sword on a non-officer was a punishable offence. Still, he carried a katana anyway, unwilling to relinquish this tie to his past. He would need it, after all, if he were to keep the promise that had started him out on the journey in the first place. 

The rain started lightly, a gentle patter on the top of his head. He accelerated his pace somewhat and was rewarded by the faint glow of lights ahead of him. There was a lone building in front of him, likely a roadside inn. He had a little money, and it had been a long time since he had slept in a bed. He decided that if it were an inn, he would stop there for the night. A warm meal and shelter from the storm would be worth more at this point than the few coins rattling together inside the pouch in his gi. 

A much more menacing roll of thunder urged him on, and he hoped that at least the inn, if it were an inn, would provide a rest for his weary bones, if not for his weary mind. 

* 

The building was an inn, and a very comfortable one at that. He shared the common room with only one other guest, who did not seem particularly talkative. The boy sat by the fire, in a spare robe, while his own clothes dried out. He had been provided with a plate of food and a jug of sake sat on a table near him. He ate, but did not drink the sake. Instead, he asked for water, and the innkeeper replied that it would be a few moments because it had to be drawn from the well in the yard. 

He was only paying cursory attention to the innkeeper, and was instead studying the fire. His attention was attracted when the innkeeper began cursing. He turned back to see the innkeeper, a burly, middle aged man, shaking his fist at an adolescent girl dressed in a filthy oversized smock. Her hair was knotted back into a ragged bun and she was barefooted. She was dirty, and looked underfed, but the most noticeable feature on her face was a large blue-black bruise on the left side of her head. Despite the threatening gestures the man made, she looked defiant. She stood stock still in front of him and outright ignored the fact that he had just demanded she fetch water from the well. The storm was fierce and she had no desire to go outside in the maelstrom, especially since she wasn't allowed near the fire to warm or dry herself. 

Finally frustrated with her defiance, the innkeeper opened the door and physically threw her out into the rain and lobbed the bucket after her. He warned her not to come back until she had drawn fresh water from the well, and slammed the door, locking it after him. He turned back to the two men beside the fire muttering something about stupid servants. 

"You have to teach them that way or they won't learn at all," he observed to his two guests. 

The other man beside the fire nodded, wetting his lips against the dryness of the room. He had sharp, sly little eyes and a weak mouth. 

The innkeeper moved to return to the kitchen, but the boy stopped him with a softly intoned question, "How did she get that bruise?" 

Eyeing the katana that lay inches away from the boy's hand, the innkeeper nervously smiled, 

"She's a clumsy oaf. She fell down the cellar stairs the other day. Spilt a jug of my nicest sake too. She's more trouble than she's worth." 

The innkeeper was happy to see that the boy was still smiling as he turned away. He had apparently been satisfied with the answer. The boy simply settled a bit farther back into his chair and stared into the fire. 

* 

He woke early, earlier than any of the members of the household, or at least he supposed. He gathered his things swiftly and quietly, and was glad to be back in his own clothes despite how worn they might be. The storm had cleared over night and he could see the pale dawn through a slit in the window covering. He had few belongings, so packing was easy. He had only to pocket his small purse and tuck his katana into his obi. This accomplished, he padded silently down the stairs. 

He wanted to be clear of the place as soon as possible. It stirred memories and feelings in him that he had locked away in a box and thrown into a deep well long ago. Despite his promise, despite his journey, he had no desire to open that box ever again. 

He had paid the night before, and although he had been promised a cold breakfast, he did not want to stay to wait for it. Briefly he wondered about the girl, but then pushed her from his mind. This was not a road he was ready to travel. She would have to fend for herself. If she knew what was good for her, she would run away and never come back. 

He slid the outer door open quietly, not wanting to disturb the rest of the household. He was just about to set off on his way when he heard a muffled cry from around the corner of the house. He felt a chill run through him, although the smile never left his face. He closed his eyes briefly, as if making a decision, and then silently slid the door shut. 

He was not surprised by what he found behind the house. The big innkeeper had his hand over the girl's mouth, and although she feebly squirmed, she couldn't get away from him. The innkeeper was cursing at her lowly, but not so softly that the boy couldn't make out what he was saying. 

"You're lucky you're still alive! When a man like that tells you to do something for him, you do it! It's not like you're delicate and frail! You should have given him what he wanted!" he shook her so that her teeth rattled, "Do you realize how powerful and important he is? He's a member of the government!" 

The girl struggled against him pitifully. He held her off the ground so there was little she could do to fight him. 

"Girls all over this prefecture would jump at the chance to give him favors, but you! You! He could have me jailed for this! You stupid worthless piece of shit! How could you bite him? I own you and you're going to learn to do what I say or I'll kill you." 

The innkeeper shook the girl again so hard that she went limp like a rag doll. He threw her down and she landed on her head and was very still. He was apparently not satisfied with this punishment though, because he bent to pick up a board from the yard. 

When he straightened, he found the boy standing in front of him, smiling pleasantly.   
  
"Please don't touch her again." 

The innkeeper twitched and he looked nervous at being caught in the act by the samurai boy, "I'm just disciplining a servant, sir. Nothing to see here. I'm sure you'd find you room much more comfortable than the stable yard at dawn," he wet his lips but he made no motion to throw down the board or stand down. 

The boy's smile was still as serene and pleasant as ever, "You don't understand," his voice was soft and polite as moved his hand over the hilt of his katana, "If you don't stop, I'll kill you." 

The innkeeper's eyes widened, "Y-you don't understand what she did. She deserves this, the wretched thing. She bit the commissioner! He'll probably have me thrown in jail! She has got to learn her place! She's mine, and she has to learn be a receptive girl who doesn't sauce back," this brought the sour look back to his face and he kicked her prone form. 

The boy moved in an instant, without thought. Even if he had been looking, the innkeeper would not have seen him move. The boy did not allow himself to be that sloppy, even against someone who posed as little threat to him as the innkeeper did. He drew the katana and stuck in one smooth motion, covering the distance between them in less than a blink of an eye. He left the innkeeper where he fell in the mud, as he preformed a matter-of-fact chiburi, flicking the blood from his katana before resheathing it. Even as he did, he wondered to himself about his actions. They certainly didn't seem to fit him, but perhaps this was the first definite step on his new journey. Perhaps. 

He scooped the small waif girl up and shifted most of the weight of his new burden to his left shoulder before setting off, back around the building, to the road. 

As the morning came into full light, any who passed him would see that he was still benignly smiling. 

* 

At noon he stopped to rest underneath a large tree beside of the road. There was a stream nearby so he gathered a palm full of water and brought it to the girl, who was still out cold. He splashed a little on her face and she stirred slightly, bringing a hand to her brow. All of the sudden, she went rigid and curled up into a ball reflexively. He kept a gentle grip on her shoulder and shook her lightly while he assured her that she was safe. After a few minutes of coaxing, she uncurled slowly and rolled over to examine her surroundings and new companion. 

"Where am I?" she demanded, rubbing the new bruise on her leg gingerly, "And how did I get here?" 

"You're about half a day's journey north from that inn," he answered pleasantly, "I carried you here because I'm afraid the innkeeper would have killed you if I had left you there." 

She was a bit perturbed by his smile, but tried to ignore it, "You saw what he was doing to me? The last thing I remember, he was shaking me . . . I was sure that he was going to kill me," she added quietly. 

"I stopped him," he answered simply. 

Her brows furrowed, "Why did you help me?" 

He tilted his chin upwards slightly, and looked a bit puzzled, although he continued to smile, "I wasn't exactly sure when I did it, but now that I've had time to think about it, I've decided that it's because you remind me of someone." 

Her eyes widened, "Are you?" she halted and blushed, "Are you?" she couldn't seem to be able to finish her thought out loud. Finally she squealed, "I'm not that kind of girl!" 

He looked blankly puzzled. 

She stabbed an accusing finger at him, "I know why you brought me out here to the middle of nowhere!" 

He seemed to catch on finally, but he simply shook his head, "Maa, I just thought you were in trouble and needed help. You can leave whenever you want." 

She blinked and looked a bit incredulous, "Really?" 

"Hai," he smiled pleasantly. 

"You helped me just because I was in trouble? Just 'cause I needed help?" 

"Hai." 

"You don't want anything in return?" 

He sweatdropped and wondered what she had to give, "Iie." 

"No one 's ever done that for me," she thought soberly. She felt a bit sheepish for harassing and accusing him. She bowed her head in both apology and thankfulness, "Arigatou gozaimasu." 

He turned away, "Now you're free. You can go wherever you like," he said, making a vague gesture with his hand that was supposed to encompass all of the surrounding countryside. 

She blinked, "But, I'm coming with you! That's why you brought me along, isn't it? You said you wanted to help me when I was in trouble!" 

He looked over his shoulder, smile as pleasant as ever, "You can't come with me. I'm on a journey." 

She stood up and faced him, hands on her hips. "I don't have anywhere else to go!" 

He looked at her curiously, "Don't you have parents? A family?" 

"Who do you think sold me to the inn in the first place!" she snapped. 

"Then go to the city. I'm sure you could find work there," he offered helpfully. 

She balled her hands up angrily. He didn't care about her at all. He just sat there listening to her troubles and kept smiling. "That bastard," she thought, seething. She'd like to kick him in the teeth! 

"Do you know what kind of jobs homeless girls my age get in the city?" she fumed, "I've heard horrible stories from men at the inn!" 

For a moment she looked as if she were going to tackle him in an attempt to convince him. He raised his hands in defense, "All right," he relented, smiling blandly, "You can travel with me until we can find some place else for you to stay." 

She was apparently satisfied with this response, because she smiled brightly and nodded, "Fair enough. I'm Kuri," she said, formally bowing. 

The boy's smile was continuous, like a light some one had forgotten to turn off. He bowed in turn, "Seta Soujiro." 

She bounced on one foot, "Now that introductions are over, Soujiro-kun, let's get going. I want to be as far away from that place as possible," she set off at a quick march. 

He paused briefly at the breach in respect but decided to let it slide. It didn't matter that much. People were always misjudging his age. He wondered, for a moment, if he had made the right decision, then turned to see her bouncing up and down about fifty feet down the road. 

"Haiyaku Soujiro-kun!" she called, waving her arms, "Haiyaku!" 

Then he realized that there had been no decision to make.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. After the Rain: The Price of a New Set o...

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter 2 -- _After the rain: The price of a new set of clothes_

By Gabi

They'd been travelling along the road for the better part of two days, and the girl, Kuri, had been chatting amiably the whole time. Occasionally she lost herself in huge tangents so wide that he himself had difficulty following her. Soujiro quickly learned to tune her out and instead busy himself with his own reflections. He was always careful to feign interest though. She got quite angry when she thought he wasn't paying attention to her. Still, she seemed to like hearing the sound of her own voice, so his occasional agreements were all the encouragement she needed to continue her observations about the state of the world. Despite the fact that he only listened to her about half of the time, he still enjoyed her constant prattle. Her voice was pleasant, and it filled up the silence. It was an excellent background for his own musings, and despite the fact that it shifted constantly from happy to angry to downtrodden to defiant, he found it all somewhat soothing. After only a few minutes travelling with her, he had decided that she had enough emotions for the both of them.

Still it was very reassuring, having her around. She didn't seem to mind his constant smile, and did not press him about his katana. She didn't even care about the specifics of her emancipation. He found her genuine offer of friendship unfamiliar and foreign, something that would have to be thought out carefully. Of course, Shishio had been his friend, and Yumi had been like an older sister, but they had both known him as the Tenken. His identity as a killer had dominated his whole existence, and he had defined himself by it. Friends can only get so close to a killer, no matter how loyal he may be. Somewhere, in the backs of their minds, they never forget what he is, and they never leave themselves completely unguarded, literally or figuratively.

Soujiro the hitokiri had had several friends among the Jupongatana, but he had thrown that all away when left Shishio's service. He was building his life anew, in an attempt to build it correctly this time. Soujiro the ronin had never had anyone simply offer him their friendship and ask for nothing in return. It made him feel strange. It was like the warm pleasant emotion he had continually felt while in Shishio's service, but it was different. It was somehow fuller, yet sharper and more focused at the same time. It made him want to smile; unfortunately, he could not express this properly as he was already smiling. Still, it is perhaps true that as they trudged along the road heading deeper and deeper into the KanagawaPrefecture, his smile was more sincere and honest, as opposed to being an absent and benign wall of defense. 

Suddenly he was drawn out of his musings by the spirited repetition of his name.

"Soujiro-kun!" prodded Kuri, scrutinizing him, "Are you listening to me?"

Not wanting to provoke her anger (because despite the fact that listening to her emotional gambit reassured him, he preferred her vibrant, eager tone because it seemed to conjure an echo of the same feeling in him -- a reaction that intrigued him) he nodded briskly, "Hai."

"Then you agree with me?" she asked, fussing with the knot of hair on the back of her head.

Here, he was stuck. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be agreeing with. The last thing he remembered was something about high rice prices and the wealthy exploiting the poor. If he didn't agree, then she'd demand to know why, and he'd be in an even tighter spot. He decided that it was safest to simply agree this time and pay closer attention the next time she asked a question. He doubted that the question was particularly important. None of the others of the morning had been. He nodded and smiled pleasantly, "Hai."

"That's great!" she announced, "We'll stop at the next town we come across then," she looked quite pleased with the situation.

Soujiro was completely lost. He expressed his puzzlement without thinking, "Why?"

Kuri looked a bit frustrated, "What do you mean why? To get new clothes for me. It's not like we're going to find some hanging from a tree, or something. Soujiro no baka, you weren't listening to me, were you?"

He sweatdropped a little, and his smile looked almost strained, "Sumimasen Kuri-san, I was thinking about something important."

She looked a little wrathful, but then she softened when she realized that she'd shaken his mask an imperceptible bit, "Daijoubu, daijoubu but you have to agree with me. I can't go around the countryside in this. They'll try and take me to an orphanage or something or at least back to my family. If I look like a servant, then someone is bound to catch me when you're not looking and make me into one again."

He nodded absently, "Hai."

"At least, if we're going to travel a long ways, I need shoes. It's okay on country roads, but in the city I'll have to be careful. Hey! Are you listening to me? What are you thinking about now?"

His smile was unruffled and vacant, yet still as agreeable as ever, "I was just thinking that your new clothes will probably use up the rest of the money I have."

This apparently didn't disturb him at all.

Kuri let out a squeal of dismay and looked quite troubled for a few moments before she put on a very determined face.

"Don't worry, Soujiro-kun. I'll think of something."

*

As luck would have it, they found themselves at the outskirts of a fairly large town only an hour of prattle later. Kuri was excited, as she hadn't been into a town for a long time, and had never been into a town as a free citizen. She chirped and bounced around Soujiro like a nervous and demented rabbit until he assured her that the town was going nowhere and that she could explore it for at least a solid hour while he plotted their next course. This promise quieted her exuberant display into a sort of repressed glee and with this partially out of her system, she found it easier to actually observe the people and scenery around her.

The town was not particularly grand. The streets were narrow and muddy, so she tried to stay on the narrow wooden sidewalk where she could. Several people on the street paused to stare at her in her dirty, ragged clothes. Soujiro's blatantly unconcealed katana also elicited a lot of unwanted attention. She tried to ignore it as he did and concentrate on the rest of the town.

There were two dozen smells on the air, all mixed together in a bizarre and sometimes unpleasant melange. She knew her own scent was among them, and this embarrassed her. She was in great need of a bath. She determined that she would have a bath at the bathhouse in town before she put on any of her new clothes. It wouldn't do to get them dirty with her body before even going outside. That was stupid. She announced this to Soujiro and he didn't seem very surprised by this observation.

"I assumed you were going to bathe, Kuri-san," he smiled pleasantly, "But I am afraid we have a problem."

She ran over the issue in her mind again, but could find no faults. Curiously, she asked, "Nan desu ka?"

He looked slightly uncomfortable, although his smile never wavered, "None of the stores in town are going to let you in like you are."

She blushed a bright red and stared intently at the ground, "I know. That's why I wanted to bathe."

"But what will you wear after you bathe? You can't put on your old smock. That would just get you dirty again, Kuri-san."

She nodded, catching his meaning, "I can't go to the store until after I have a bath and I don't have anything to wear to the store after I bath."

"Which means that you can't go to the store. We're stuck Kuri-san," he shook his head, but kept his voice level and affable, "Gomen nasai, don't feel too badly about it."

She turned the problem over and over in her mind, worrying it like a small dog will worry a rat. Suddenly she was presented with a very simple solution.

"You go to the store for me. I don't have to go in. You just go get what I need."

He was surprised by this answer, but it seemed feasible. Then he realized why he hadn't thought of it himself, "Ano, Kuri-san, I don't know what to buy for a girl."

And suddenly, her brilliant solution was blown to bits, and she couldn't tell him what to buy, because she wasn't sure of all the particulars herself. She just knew that most women wore pretty kimono. She rubbed the back of her head in frustration, pulling at the knot of hair. Then she had it. It was simple, easy, and solved more than one problem at the same time.

"Just buy me whatever you need."

"Nani?" he asked. That was certainly not the reaction he'd expected. 

"Buy me boy's clothes," she reiterated, "I'll pretend to be a boy. It's all I can think of, and I need clothes. Anyway, people won't try to bully me so much if they think I'm a boy. They won't ask questions about me travelling with you either. Plus, if anyone ever comes looking for me, they won't think to look for a boy," she looked quite pleased with herself and her problem solving skills.

Soujiro nodded. She did have several valid points, and it was an easy remedy. "Hai. Good idea, Kuri-san."

She held up her wrist to his, "Just remember I'm a little smaller than you are."

He nodded again politely and added with his personable smile, "I'll take you to the baths, then go and buy your new clothes. I'll be back before you're finished, I promise."

She squealed happily, "You're great Soujiro-kun! I knew I'd think of something!"

*

Kuri felt cleaner than she imagined possible. It was a fresh, new feeling. She'd washed well, all over, removing all the dirt and filth from her body. Then she'd tackled the knotted mat of hair at the back of her head. Now her hair was loose and wet. She'd brushed it until all the mats and tangles had disappeared. Unencumbered, the straight brown-black mass ran to the middle of her back.

She was happy to find a plain string in the brown paper package that was left for her in the dressing room. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and knotted the string around it twice, rolling and tucking the ends of the string into the loop.

The package also contained white linen undergarments, which she knew would take some getting used to. She donned them quickly, knotting the strings tight. She smiled, surveying the package. He'd even thought to get her cloth wrappings to bind herself. She tied the bindings tightly, trimming her slim figure down even more, although it was difficult starting them on her own. She stopped to regard herself in the mirror and her androgynous shape distressed her to some degree. Here she was, with her first set of real clothes, and even now she was loosing the little femininity that working at the inn had spared her. She sighed softly to herself and wondered if she would ever get to move gracefully like a butterfly in a beautifully colored kimono. Then she shook her head. She didn't know how to move gracefully anyway. A kimono would be wasted on the likes of her. Still . . . she banished the thought to the back of her mind and busied herself with dressing.

There was no collared undershirt in the package, apparently the store hadn't carried them. Soujiro had instead provided a linen body sleeve that tied in the back at three places. Tying this was also a pain, but eventually she got it on and secure. The undershirt exposed her neck and her collarbone, but covered any cleavage that might have been visible despite the wrappings.

I don't even look like a girl, she thought despairingly, _I look like a boy. I bet no one will ever be able to tell. I'd like to be pretty . . ._ she cut the thought off again and fished in the package, deciding to don the gi next. She knew he was outside waiting for her. She didn't want to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.

She pulled on the gi, and the textured dark green fabric felt nice next to her skin. The gi fell open across her chest, but it didn't expose anything that might reveal her gender, thanks to the binding and linen wrap. She didn't allow herself any wistful thoughts about the gi. Thinking unhappy thoughts was probably not going to net her prettier clothes. Besides, as she had already discussed with Soujiro, she had no idea how to wear the pretty clothes anyway. This longing was pointless.

Her hakama came next, and the cream colored garment fit nicely, although she worried for several minutes about lacing the long strings. Finally, she just tucked them into the hakama, and hoped the obi would cover them. She could not help but inwardly berate herself over this as well.

And you want girl's clothes, part of her mind scoffed. _You don't even know what to do with boy's clothes._

The obi was also cream colored, although she had no trouble putting it on. Its complexity did not elude her. 

I ought to be happy that Soujiro cared enough to buy new clothes for me at all. I'm being ungrateful. No one else my entire life has done something like this for me, and all I can do is think about how it could be better.

And then the other part of her mind took over.

But it's for him too. I'd like to be pretty. I want to be pretty . . . I bet he likes . . . I bet he likes . . .

Her dark green tabi were next, and she found herself silently offering up thanks as the smooth socks slid onto her sore and tired feet. The soak in the water had already done wonders for them, but it felt nice to tuck them into something comfortable. She concentrated on the comfort of her feet and tried to ignore the two inner voices that were plaguing her.

Her sandals were last, and she was pleased to find that although he had guessed at her size completely, he had approximated it closely. They weren't so big that they flopped, yet weren't so small that they were uncomfortable. She tied the sandal's bindings tightly, because she had no wish to loose one while beating any sort of hasty retreat.

All this accomplished, she examined herself carefully. On one level, she was quite impressed with her handiwork, because she was sure that she looked very much like a young boy. On another level, she couldn't help one last wistful look

I want to be pretty for him. 

Pausing beside the dressing room door, she took a deep breath and slid the door open, stepping into the common room of the bathhouse. 

Soujiro was standing with his back to the door and examining a calendar on the far wall. When he heard her footstep behind him, he turned, the familiar complacent smile quite at home on his boyish face. 

"Very nice, Kuri-san. If I didn't know better I would swear you were a boy."

She concealed the small hurt his innocent comment provoked without missing a step, although one voice did get a final tiny rebuttal, _I told you. You're a boy to him. You'll never be . . ._ She cut the voice off before it could do any more damage and responded to his comment with a bluff of arrogance.

"Normally, that would offend me, but I guess it's a compliment now. I guess even my radiant beauty is concealed by this great disguise," she smiled like a satisfied cat for effect.

Soujiro sweatdropped, apparently completely taken in, and said, "Hai, Kuri-san."

The radiant beauty opened her mouth again to ask where they were headed now that her most pressing need was taken care of, when suddenly her stomach rumbled very loudly and informed her of their next destination.

* 


	3. On the Kindness of Strangers: Halt, Poli...

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter 3: _On the Kindness of Strangers: Halt, Police!_

By Gabi

Of course, once Kuri's stomach announced itself, it was difficult to ignore. It growled out again before they had taken ten steps out of the bathhouse. It's incessant noise reminded Soujiro that he'd had nothing to eat since the day before. This was not uncommon for him, as a wandering ronin cannot always choose his mealtimes. Still, he did generally get enough to eat, a statement he was not so sure he could make about his companion.

Kuri put a comforting hand over her stomach and groaned.

"We don't have any money left, do we?"

His benign smile was unaltered, although he was forced to shake his head, "Iie, Kuri-san."

"No money means no dinner," she equated miserably.

"Sumimasen, Kuri-san. I'll try and make sure that we eat tomorrow."

Her eyes popped at the prospect, "Tomorrow! We can't wait that long to eat, especially if you want to travel some more this evening," she bowed her head, "Gomen nasai, Soujiro-kun, but I just can't walk any more without rest or food. I'm not used to it. Fetching water from the well when I haven't eaten all day isn't so bad, but walking all this way? I don't want to faint on you."

His pleasant smile and soft touched voice was rather nerve racking as he calmly went over their options, "Well, if you're really hungry we can go through some trash or beg, but that rarely works. I've seen several people at it since I started on my journey and it generally only gets them in trouble."

Kuri was not particularly excited by the idea of finding her dinner at the bottom of a garbage heap, the latter idea had some merit though, she decided.

"Soujiro-kun, would you mind if we tried to get some food? If we, you know, begged?" she looked rather pitiful, with her hungry, hangdog expression.

Soujiro would not beg for himself. If he was hungry, then that was fate and part of his penance. Kuri however had done nothing wrong and didn't deserve to go hungry again. He wasn't sure when she'd eaten last, but from her skinny frame he guessed that her meals at the inn had been few and far between. Deciding it would be all right to be for Kuri's sake, he shook his head, "Iie, Kuri-san. I don't mind if we beg. You need food."

She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Soujiro no baka. You need food too."

He pretended as though he hadn't heard and then nodded, "Cheer up, Kuri-san. I'm sure someone will give us a little something."

His positive comment distracted her and bucked up her spirits again, "Hai, I'm sure someone will."

*

A dismal hour later they had visited most of the residences and restaurants in the town. Every homeowner or cook had called them worthless sloths or shouted obscenities. Two had thrown things at them and one had threatened to call the police. Needless to say, Kuri's belly was no closer to being full and it protested its condition loudly. 

Still, she kept up a faint hope as they approached the final restaurant on the row. It was a nice looking establishment, well lighted and bright, and the most delicious smells issued from the open door. Kuri's mouth watered.

The head waited stood at the door and tried to lure passersby in with descriptions of the delectable food inside. It was almost more than she could bear, and as she stood beside the door she could almost taste the dumplings. She swallowed. Soujiro was the one to present their case this time.

"Pardon my interruption, sir, but my friend and I are travelers. We've run out of money and my younger friend is very hungry, sir. I don't suppose you have any food to spare," he explained politely, "Because my friend would appreciate almost anything."

Kuri held her breath.

Then the waiter responded, "I'm happy to serve anyone," his face was as pleasant as Soujiro's, "Provided they can pay for their meal," his expression grew quite stony, "People work too hard for their money for me to just give you food for nothing. Go on, you vagrant filth, and don't come back until you have some money!"

This was a bit too much for Kuri, "Why you evil bastard! Haven't you ever heard of helping those that are down!?! Did it ever occur to you that we maybe had some bad luck or were wronged!?" she was shouting at the top of her lungs and looked as if she was going to pounce the waiter and show him just how angry she was. Soujiro was quicker than she was and restrained her before she could make her move. He looked quite embarrassed and sweatdropped as he apologized for her behavior. She wriggled and wriggled, trying to get loose, but his grip held firm and he manage to drag her away.

The waiter shook his fist after them, "And if I ever see your faces again, I'll call the police!"

He did not let her go until they were several blocks away from the restaurant. 

"Sumimasen, Kuri-san, but you can't just randomly attack people like that," he sweatdropped, "They'll put us in jail."

"That jerk! Every word I said was true! May his restaurant burn down tomorrow," she snapped sullenly. 

Her peevish mood did not dampen Soujiro's expression or voice in the least. He simply smiled and pointed out the obvious, "And your belly isn't any closer to being full, is it?"

"Of course not!" she retorted. 

"Well then," he surmised in his pleasant tone of his, "Your actions back there didn't help us at all, did they?" 

She sat down on the sidewalk and crossed her arms, scowling at him. She was in no mood to have this discussion, especially not with a boy who looked eternally pleased with himself.

He realized that that he had pressed her a bit too much while she was still angry and apologized. She sullenly accepted, but didn't budge from her spot. After a few moments, he sat down on the wooden sidewalk beside her.

She sulked in silence for a few moments, running all possible alternatives over in her head. Finally she came upon one that was quite satisfying in all ways. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she bounced to her feet and rubbed her hands together.

"Um, I just remembered I have something to take care of, Soujiro-kun. You stay here and I'll be right back," she smiled widely and fidgeted a bit. Her smile was a little too wide, in his opinion..

"It's all right, Kuri-san, I'll come with you," he smiled good-naturedly.

She laughed nervously, "No, no, silly Soujiro, I have to do it one my own," she groped for an excuse, "It's a surprise."

"A surprise?" he asked, curious.

"A girl surprise," her voice had noticeable strain in it, but he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and he dismissed it. 

"All right, Kuri-san. I'll be waiting right here for you."  
"Arigatou, Soujiro-kun, I'll be right back!" and with that, she took off faster than he would have guessed her underfed form could move.

*

She was gone for several minutes, but not any length of time that would have aroused his worry. That was another new feeling he'd been experiencing recently, worry. As the Tenken, he'd never worried about anything. As long as he as strong, there was nothing to worry about. There wasn't anyone or anything that was really a threat to Shishio, that couldn't be easily removed. He had really never had any cares or worries, just a constant unbroken feeling of pleasure.

Even as a ronin, little bothered him. Of course, he cared for himself enough so that his continued existence was not a problem, but he didn't do much more than that. He knew that he had to preserve his life to keep his promise to Himura, so he was always careful and methodical in situations that could be severely hazardous to his health, but he never let such things worry him.

Despite his fledgling emotional responses, he still had a habit of going outside of his situation and examining it like an unbiased party. It was the only logical thing to do, and as the Tenken, logic had been his ally and emotions had been his enemy. This kept petty things from bothering him, and even some not so petty things. For instance, he wasn't a bit perturbed by his constant apologies to Kuri. They didn't hurt him, and they pacified her, so really, there was no draw back. Their current monetary straits did not bother him either. If they didn't have food tonight he'd simply have to figure out a way to get them food tomorrow. It wasn't complicated and there was no use dwelling on the fact that he was hungry.

Still, he had a responsibility now. He couldn't merely dismiss things as unpleasant but bearable now, he had Kuri to think of. He'd now have to consider his actions, and the risks he took more carefully, lest she be left to deal with the consequences. It did complicate things, but taking care of her was fulfilling the promise he had made to Himura, and he had to admit, having someone depending on him conjured that same full, rich contentedness that he had decided must be called "happiness." It'd been so long since he had felt things, he had difficulty remembering what all the terms meant, he realized ruefully.

Well, that would change in time. Everything can change in time, he knew. A bloody hitokiri could become a battered ronin and an indentured servant could become a free citizen. He'd just have to give it some time.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the rapid approach of slapping sandals on the dirt road. He looked up just in time to see Kuri come tearing around the corner hefting a large iron skillet with a ceramic dish in the center of it. 

She screeched to a halt in front of him, although the skillet had a mind to keep travelling forward and she almost fell forward under its weight. When she regained her balance, she banged it down on the wooden sidewalk and took the heavy ceramic bowl out of the center of it.

"Sukiyaki?" he asked, caught rather off guard.

She nodded happily and shook out her sleeves, producing two pairs of chopsticks. 

"Who gave you sukiyaki?" he asked curiously, taking an offered pair of chopsticks.

She laughed nervously, "That nice man from the restaurant we just visited. I went back and explained our situation in greater detail and he felt really bad for the way he treated us, so he said I could have all the food I wanted to make up for it."

"Dishes and all?"

"Hai," her smile was strained, "Now eat up fast. You need your strength and I really have to return these dishes soon."

He nodded and grabbed a piece of squash with his chopsticks. She really was right. He did need his strength if he was going to take care of her properly. That last thing she needed was for him to keel over from hunger on her.

Once she knew that she had secured his cooperation, she dug in with a relish, putting away the rice and vegetables at amazing speed. She barely stopped to breathe, catching spare air in between mouthfuls of food. Soujiro was not quite as enthusiastic, but she made sure he ate well through constant prodding.

She was beginning to feel very good inside when the rapid approach of several pairs of heavy booted feet reminded her of the consequences of their meal. She tugged at his sleeve.

"I think it's time we set off, Soujiro-kun," she intoned in the most relaxed, cheerful tone she could muster, which still sounded slightly nervous and panicky.

"Nani? I though you had to return these dishes . . ."

Suddenly, he was cut off by the sharp cry of thief and curious, he turned his head to survey the end of the street, where several armed policemen had just rounded the corner.

"I see," he sweatdropped, as he rose to his feet. 

He should have expected as much. Kuri's story and behavior had been more than suspect. Still, he really couldn't blame her. She was a starving waif and the man she'd swiped from looked like he ran a very profitable restaurant. Soujiro doubted that he would even feel the loss of one dinner. He might have perhaps felt a twinge of guilt at Kuri's actions had the man at the restaurant not been so thoroughly unpleasant to her. As it stood, Kuri's impulse action had solved one of their problems but had presented them with another. He couldn't help thinking of her fondly, despite the trouble she'd gotten them into. She was trying her best to help in any way she could think of.

She hopped about like a demented rabbit again, sure that he was displeased with her, "Gomen nasai, Soujiro-kun, I was so hungry!"

He gave her a reassuring smile and murmured, "Daijoubu, daijoubu, don't work yourself into a fit, it just looks like we're going to leaving a little sooner than I expected."

The front runner in the pack of constabulary was close enough now to see that Soujiro carried a sword. He drew his own weapon and loudly called for the ronin to stay right where he was.

Soujiro was not particularly impressed with the policeman's sword, yet he did not see the benefits of slaying a policeman. Besides, there was Kuri to consider, that and the fact that he didn't need to kill these men to protect her from them. He was fairly certain that the random killing of a policeman would contradict the whole purpose of his journey.

This settled, he could see only one other feasible alternative.

He turned his head absently and gauged the height of the nearest building. He glanced back at the rapidly approaching policemen one last time and then turned and scooped Kuri up into his arms in one smooth motion. She made a startled sound that turned into a light squeal as he jumped from the ground to a rooftop like a grasshopper. She blinked and began to rub her eyes as if she disbelieved they had just hopped from the street to a rooftop with no problems. Soujiro took the opportunity when Kuri had her eyes closed to tense his calves. He was gone from the town in something between an instant and a moment, with only a few dented rooftops to show his passage. 

The policemen were left in the middle of the street wondering what on earth had become of their quarry in a fraction of a second. After a half-hearted hunt through a few local buildings, the hunt was called off and the bowl and skillet were returned, empty, to the angry restaurant owner.

He had nothing to say about it but a low, muttered curse.

* 

He stopped his monumental burst of speed right after they passed through the outskirts of town, but he kept running for sometime, putting a good bit of distance between them and the town. When he finally did stop it was to announce that they were stopping for the night under a tree near the road.

He set her on her feet gently, but even as he did she immediately grabbed his shoulder.

"Soujiro-kun, how did you do that?!! I close my eyes and we're in town, I open them back up and we're not in town anymore. What happened?"

He laughed nervously and smiled his benign smile, "I think you fainted, Kuri-san."

She looked at him skeptically, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "You went limp in my arms for a while. I was worried."

He was sure that she would treat him differently once she knew about his past. She didn't need to be burdened with the truth. Besides, a few slight alterations of the truth never hurt anyone.

This answer seemed to appease her, and she didn't question him about it any more before curling into a little ball near him, under the tree. She had had a long day.

"Just one more thing, Soujiro-kun," she yawned and made herself more comfortable in the grass.

"Hai?"

"If you run off and leave me while I'm asleep, I swear I'll hunt you until the day I die."

"Hai, Kuri-san," he smiled and rolled over on his side.

"Oyasumi," she yawned again faintly.

"Oyasumi, he returned.

Several minutes passed and Soujiro was lulled by her regular breathing. He was just about to drift off himself when he felt a light tug at his sleeve as she shifted positions slightly while she slept.

He craned his neck to see her arm stretched out between them. His smile was warm in the darkness. She had a death grip on his gi.

She was taking no chances.

*


	4. Home Again, Home Again: Storm on the Hor...

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter 4 -- _Home again, home again: Storm brewing on the horizon_

By Gabi

The morning sun was warm on their backs as they approached yet another town. They'd been travelling together for more than a week now, and Kuri had gotten quite used to it. Despite the fact that they still had no money, they'd managed to eke out a comfortable enough existence. Apparently people in this part of the prefecture were more hospitable than the ones in the part they'd recently left. 

They passed the time easily too. Kuri filled up any silent spaces with her random prattle. Soujiro punctuated these verbal dissertations on the state of the world with occasional comments, sometimes agreeing with her, sometimes disagreeing. She had confirmed opinions on just about everything under the sun, even the things she knew very little about, and it interested him to find that many of her confirmed opinions directly contradicted things he'd seen himself. Whenever this happened he'd very sweetly explain to her the reality of the world using his soft spoken voice. He wasn't altogether sure if she actually filed the information he provided away, or if she was just feigning interest politely, as he had a habit of doing when he was deep in thought. Whatever the case, she never seemed to seriously regard the information, because she never really changed any of her real opinions. It was a both frustrating and endearing trait.

In any case, Soujiro's full attention had not been directed at the girl for upwards of two days now. Something buried far deeper in his psyche occupied almost the totality of his thoughts. The village they approached was the same one he'd left so many years ago, under the cover of a violent storm and at the side of an even more violent man. He was home.

When he had first left Kyoto, he had been unsure of his destination. He was a ronin now, and as such, he really didn't need a direction. He just wandered. Yet, only a few days after setting out it had occurred to him that if he wanted to rebuild his life from the bottom, there was no better place to begin than at the beginning, and the rice warehouse in this village had been the start of all things.

Kuri was once again excited over the prospect of a new town. She happily noted that this one looked very pleasant. Soujiro paid her little attention, but she didn't seem to mind. Perhaps she sensed that he was occupied by his own demons, or perhaps she was so oblivious in her excitement that she truly was unaware that he wasn't listening to her. Still new to the complexities of human emotions and relationships, he wasn't quite sure, but she was her usual genial and enthusiastic self.

At the edge of the town he gently caught her sleeve, cutting off her prattle in mid-stride. She immediately hushed and regarded him seriously as he spoke. His expression didn't waver. Despite the queer feeling that had come over him as soon as he drew near the familiarity of the village, he still sported his ever present smile.

"Kuri-san, I have some important things to do today in town."

She nodded, ducking her head slightly as she did.

"And I need to do them alone."

She looked curious, but she didn't press him.

"I ought to be done by dusk. I'll meet you back here at this tree then," he gestured to the large cherry tree behind him. It was just beginning to blossom.

He worried that she would demand to go with him or know his business, but she simply smiled pleasantly and agreed, "Hai, Soujiro-kun. I'll meet you here at dusk," she squeezed her eyes shut mimicking his own expression, "Just be sure to be here on time, or I'll eat all your dinner."

He was relieved, and relaxed to a degree, "Hai, Kuri-san. I'll be there." he repressed the urge to thank her so as not to arouse her suspicions further than they might be already.

She bounced on her feet and turned on her heel. She ran off towards the business district of the village, stopping to look back and wave only once. He waved back almost absently, already preoccupied again.

Once she was out of sight, he began his own journey into town. His steps were slow and sure. He was in no hurry to visit the house where he'd spent so many torturous days and nights as a child. Being broken, as he was, he could no longer objectively view his past. His emotions were mixed, but none of the ones he felt were pleasant. He even felt a little sick, in the pit of his stomach.

Before he was ready, he found himself at the yard in front of the rice warehouse. He had no idea who owned the distributing center now. That rainy night in spring had killed off all his known relatives. He reflected that since no one could stake a legitimate claim to the company, it had probably reverted back to the state. Whatever the case, the yard seemed blessedly deserted. He did not want to have to explain himself to any irate new owners who might spy him "trespassing."

He took a deep breath, and strode deliberately into the yard. The smooth sand of the yard shifted a little under the weight of his sandals. Near the edge of the warehouse he found a little hollow in the dirt and sat down. 

It didn't take long before the flood of memories came washing back over him, and he found himself reliving his childhood. He was beaten by his older half-brothers on every possible occasion. Once, at age six, after failing to scrub the steps clean enough for his grandmother, they had nearly beaten him to death. He remembered being black and blue and bleeding, scared senseless in the storage room, cowering in a pile of burlap sacks terrified that they'd come back and do it again. He had felt that they had broken something inside of him, and lay as still as death, wishing he were dead, or invisible, or anything so long as they wouldn't hurt him again. Miraculously, he did not die that night from internal bleeding, and they had left him alone for the better part of a week. But then it had started again, and it did not stop again after that, no matter how severe the beatings he got were.

He remembered hauling heavy sacks of rice until he passed out from exhaustion, afraid to stop lest he provoke another beating. Then he remembered waking up in the yard at night under an infinite and beautiful sky, his arms and back covered with new welts they had given him as he lay there. He remembered learning to sleep on his stomach so he wouldn't irritate the open sores on his back. Then he remembered nights when he had to sleep on his welts, because they covered his whole body. He cried often, but never when they were around. He had learned never to let them see. Whenever they saw they just beat him more. He learned to smile for them, and although his smile occasionally provoked their violence, they lost interest quickly. To them he was like a thing dead. Even to himself he seemed like a thing dead, but he still harbored hope. One day he'd leave the rice yard forever. One day he'd be able to sleep without worrying whether one of his older brothers would storm into the cellar one night and beat him just for the hell of it, or because a woman had jilted him. It had happened before. It would happen again and again and again, and it would continue to happen until he left. He would leave someday.

He found himself crying silently in the shade of the warehouse. He had never wanted to hurt them. No matter how many times they beat him, he never wanted to hurt them. If he had wanted to hurt them back, then he would have been no better than they were. He had never wanted to hurt, only to leave. Only to be free of them. Free.

He leaned forward and drew his knees to his chest. He held his head in his hands and his tears wet his cheeks and the cold sand under him. He had killed them all in a few moments of terrified rebellion. He had done things too terrible for a child to do, so he had locked the little boy in himself behind a soundproof screen. The boy had watched him kill and kill and kill, always smiling, never mindful of the fears, sorrow, and happiness that he shunted away and locked in an airtight box. The boy had seen everything, and now he wept openly, as he had wept behind the screen so many times before.

After fleeing from one broken home, he had made himself slave to another master, one that was kinder to the killer, but worse to the little crying boy. But then it hadn't really mattered. The boy had been locked behind the screen, and his torment could not be heard. During his fight with Himura, the screen had finally cracked, allowing the killer to finally hear the boy's voice again. Now they both existed inside of him, the killer and the boy, and together, they made him the ronin. No one had been there to stop what had happened to him, but now with the soul of the boy and the skills of the killer, perhaps he could stop it from happening to others. 

The moment the screen cracked during the battle with Himura, the boy had begun to assert himself, after having been gagged for so long. Now it was the boy who enjoyed the rabbit girl's company. It had been the killer that had freed her, but the killer was not capable of enjoying anything. The boy could love and hate and cry. At that moment when he had thrown himself against the floor, Yumi had called him broken. She had been incorrect. He was not broken. He was finally free. 

*

The moon was high when he finally made his way back to the cherry tree. He chided himself for making her wait even as he did. He found her asleep at the base of the tree, arms tight around a sack of food and their small pouch of money. He smiled at her fondly, and then gently shook her awake. 

It seemed to him that she must have only been half-asleep, because she only paused for a moment to yawn before launching into her account of the day. He convinced her to keep her voice low at least until they had put a little distance between themselves and the town, however, as soon as she gauged they were a safe distance away, she launched back into her tale full force.

She explained that she had spent most of the day working, at a local restaurant. She'd done dishes for hours, but she was proud of what she had to show for it. She had a sack of food for their dinner and breakfast, and had earned enough to buy food at market stands for several days. He praised her in his soft and gentle voice and she warmed to his smile. She didn't ask about his day and he didn't offer to tell her. Maybe he would. Maybe he would someday, but not tonight. Her smile was too bright tonight. Her step was too light.

They stopped for the night in an old abandoned barn that they had passed in the morning. The straw inside it was warm and dry, and Kuri made herself comfortable immediately, but not before making sure that Soujiro got some rice and vegetables inside of him. He accepted them without protest, and she found it was easy to go to sleep in the sun warmed hay because she could sense that he was happy and relaxed.

He sat up watching her sleep and thinking about the decisions he'd made that day for a long while. The moonlight was silver and ethereal. He could see a few cherry blossom petals nested in Kuri's hair, holdovers from her stay underneath the tree. Cherry blossoms and the past. Soon maybe he could put his past behind him, but he had one other stop he had to make before starting his journey in earnest again. Kyoto. They would go to Kyoto next to pay their respects to a fallen empire that was never meant to be. 

This decision made, he too found it easy to settle into the warm bed of straw. The night was quiet, and although there was a slight chill in the air, it wasn't unpleasant. Once again, he found himself drifting off to the steady rhythm of her breathing. Just as sleep was about to wash over him he heard a sound that chilled his blood.

It was the click of metal upon metal as someone unsheathed a katana. 

*

Ooooo! Cliffhanger ^.^ -- Just so you know, sentence fragments are there on purpose ^^;;;


	5. Blood on the Tongue: The Choices We Make

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter 5 -- _Blood on the tongue: the choices we make_

By Gabi

The chill of the sound still running through him, Soujiro rolled onto his feet in a smooth motion, shaking the warm feeling of comfort and relaxation that had settled over him off in a second. He hopped to the wall of the barn soundlessly and scanned the shadows for the intruder.

There were two of them silhouetted against the dark far wall. The men weren't farmers, angry at finding vagrants in their barn, Soujiro could tell that at a glance. They two men looked too sure of themselves, and they didn't bother to give him a warning before both coming into strike the warm hollow in the straw where he'd just been.

He moved in a flash, circling around behind them, his feet barely touching the ground. In a moment, he heard them curse and call out to one another when they discovered that he was not where he was supposed to be. The men did not seem to be that talented, and Soujiro hoped that he would be able to disarm them and would not be forced to kill them, not over the sleeping form of Kuri, not so soon after the boy inside him was free. 

Unfortunately, the commotion the two men made was enough to rouse Kuri, who sat up drowsily, trying to shake the sleep from her head and puzzle out what was going on. Her movement startled the attacker closest to her, and her turned to strike, katana naked in the moonlight. She froze, terrified, like a rabbit before an oncoming train. 

He moved without thinking, and put himself in between the two of them, drawing his own katana lightning quick to counter the other in a bracing clash of steel on steel. The sound seemed to break the spell that held Kuri motionless, but the movements she made now were panicky random. He realized that if he wanted to get her out of danger, he'd have to tell her to run, because she wouldn't think of it on her own.

His voice was low and soft, but there was an edge to the softness that was only noticeable to the trained ear, "Kuri, run away as fast as you can. Don't stop and don't come back here. I'll meet you later, I promise."

His adversary recovered himself and attacked again, bringing his sword around for another strike. Soujiro guarded from his left hip in an attempt to protect the retreat of the rabbit girl who scrambled to her feet and towards the door. She stopped one time in the door of the old, dilapidated barn to look back at him, but he threw another command at her, sharper than before. Sharp enough this time for the attackers to notice it.

"Go!"

It was as if his words shattered any sense of hesitation that she had left. She bolted out the door like a terrified rabbit. Seeing her run, Soujiro felt better. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her getting hurt in the fight. Now he could concentrate on taking their two assailants out.

And then one of them bolted out the door into the darkness. It took a full ten seconds for him to realize that the other man hadn't run away, he'd run after. The other assassin was going after Kuri. It was in the instant that he realized this that his decision was made. It wasn't even really a decision, just a conscious shift in goals. He slid his katana back into its sheath and paused, engraving the other assassin's position in his mind. 

The assassin looked startled at his stance, and tried to scrabble out of the way, to hide behind anything. 

Soujiro smiled, faintly, absently, a reflex more than anything, "He's been warned about my techniques. He came to this barn expecting to find me," he thought, tensing his calves in preparation for his strike.

He moved in a split second, throwing up the loose straw in the bar with the force of his footfalls. The assassin looked wildly about himself, but confused by the flurry of straw and knowing that death was only seconds away from him, he only flailed blindly forward.

Soujiro hopped sideways to avoid the sword and then stuck the assassin cleanly through the neck with a Shukuchi five steps short. The man grunted softly and coughed up some blood before collapsing in a heap. 

Soujiro left him where he fell, and instead ventured out into the night where he knew a wolf hunted his rabbit.

*

Kuri ran as fast as she could and the running drove all other thoughts from her head. Her heart beat like a runaway steam engine and her breath came fast and ragged. She had to keep running. She could hear the man behind her, gaining on her. If he caught her, then he'd do something terrible to her. She didn't know what, didn't want to know what, but she knew it was true, and she didn't want be caught. So she ran, stumbling over the uneven, unfamiliar ground in the darkness. All the time she could hear the man behind her, getting closer, going to catch her. She put on an extra desperate burst of speed, trying to get away, trying to get anywhere that wasn't in front of the bad man. The bad man who was going to catch her and kill her and no she couldn't think about that. She had to run. She ran, and ran, and all the sudden she stumbled and couldn't catch herself. She tumbled head over heels, fingers splaying in the grass, clawing for purchase, but she couldn't hold one, but she didn't stop, she scrabbled forward on her hands and knees, struggling to get back on her feet, to keep running, even though her lungs burned and her heart felt like it would burst.

Then strong arms suddenly seized her from behind.

She cried out, a wordless sound of fear and panic, and struggled against the arms, fighting as hard as she could against the steady grip. The grip held firm, as and she fought her way into emotional exhaustion, she suddenly became aware of a soft and familiar voice which was attempting to calm her. 

She tried to turn and found his grip loosened so she could do so. Still scared, even though she was now safe, she began to cry, shaking, and hiccuping, coughing as the tears can and choked her as she took shelter against his chest. Terrified, unsure, yet still relieved, sobs racked her as she clung to him. He brought his free hand up to her hair to comfort and reassure her, but something warm and wet dripped onto her arm.

Confused and still muddled, it took her a moment to focus on the fresh bloodstain on his sleeve. She shot him an uncomprehending look.

"Not mine," he assured her soothingly, and as an afterthought he added, "I shouldn't have been so sloppy. It scared you." 

Suddenly the full weight of his nonchalant words struck her and her eyes widened as if he'd suddenly become unfamiliar and threatening. She looked away back over her shoulder and started struggling against his grip.

"Get away," she cried softly, so pitifully that he almost let her loose, "Killer," she cried, struggling, unthinking.

The word hit him hard on his raw underbelly and his grip tightened even as his defenses collapsed. The hitokiri had just killed again, and now the boy was paying for it. Finally, he spoke, and his voice trembled slightly as he did.

"I had to do it Kuri. If I hadn't, they would have killed us both."

Her voice was small and tiny, "Have you done it before?"

He let his breath out and closed his eyes, "Hai."

She squeezed her eyes tight and brought a hand to her face, covering her eyes, as if to blind herself to what had happened.

"Soujiro-kun," she started out shaking, "No, Soujirou-san," she corrected herself awkwardly, "Now I don't even know what to call you." She broke down into a shuddering sob again.

His voice was gentle and he absently began to stroke her hair, "Soujiro-kun. Call me Soujiro-kun."

"But, but . . ." she struggled against herself, trying to regain her self-control.

"I like it," he murmured, and it was as if the discussion were closed. She leaned against him again, seeking stability, comfort, anything, and after a while, the tears and hiccups stopped, and she slowly began to relax.

"Kuri-san?" his voice was tentative, although it had regained much of the warm and benign calm. She didn't bother to look to see if he were smiling or not.

"Hai?"

"Are you still coming with me?"

Her laugh was nervous, "I told you, if you ever try to leave me I'll hunt you until the day I die."

His laugh was soft, "Hai, I had almost forgotten."

There was silence for a while, and then she asked quietly, "Soujiro-kun, what did the -- those men, what did they want? Why did they try -- to hurt us?" 

He could only shake his head and answer truthfully, "I don't know."

"Whatever the reason, I'm glad it's over an that you're okay."

"Hai," he smiled pleasantly, but even as he did, he felt that it was not, and somehow he knew that they would find the answer to her question somewhere in Kyoto.


	6. Brotherly Love: If Wishes Were Horses

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter Six -- Brotherly love: If wishes were horses

By Gabi

Soujiro straightened a little on his foot and shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. They were eating at a sake house tonight, and Kuri wouldn't stop squealing about how happy she was to have meat, and not just rice and vegetables. Her idle prattle relaxed him, and it was a refuge of sorts. He could always distract himself from heavier issues by getting embroiled in the trials and tribulations of her life, which always seemed very singular, despite the fact that they often involved him. He had discovered that removing himself from a problem for a while and instead throwing himself headlong into Kuri's conversations helped him focus more closely on it later.

The first few days after the incident with the assassins had been rather tense, and as she readjusted herself to him. He didn't act any differently toward her, and after a while, she accepted him again as closely, or perhaps more closely than before. Some time on the second day after the attack she had decided that there were certain situations that could only be resolved by the sword. Soujiro had killed the two men to protect her. She knew he was a good boy -- no, she couldn't really think of him that way anymore, no matter how hard she tried. Soujiro wasn't a boy, he was a man. Yet he still wasn't even that. It was as if he were some strange creature, deprived of his childhood and thrown into adulthood full force and with no forewarning of what it would cost or gift him with. In some ways he was a man, and in others, he was yet a boy.

Kuri had been able to piece this character assessment out in three days because she was really a rather empathetic person, when she bothered to be quiet long enough to listen to other people speak. But really, Soujiro seemed to tell her more when he refrained from speaking and simply smiled and nodded. He was a good man, she reassured herself, nodding almost imperceptibly. He was a good man and now they were having dinner together in a nice sake house and there was meat on the table and she was attempting to tell him what she thought about Kyoto.

She was only attempting to tell him her opinion on Kyoto, not because she had never been there and thus didn't think herself qualified to have an opinion on the subject. Rather she was only attempting because there was a man at the table next to them who kept shouting out boasts for every third word she said. She found it extremely tiring especially since she couldn't even hear herself think. The man kept going on about how he was the best swordsman in the prefecture and about how many men he'd bested. 

Kuri had the great urge to tell him to shut up, and after several more minutes of this boasting, she did, despite the slightly uncomfortable look on Soujiro's face when he realized what she was planning on doing . She turned around squarely and shouted a decibel above the man's boast, a feat she was capable of because she exercised her voice box so frequently.

"Shut up you big lummox! Other people are trying to talk too!"

The large man turned incensed at the interruption, but when he saw who had interrupted him, he began to laugh. His face was red and splotchy and he appeared to be at least a little drunk.

"Little chick is pretty far from the nest!" his laugh was loud and raucous and his joke was not particularly funny, "Little pup ought to mind his manners and watch who he sasses."

She gripped the edges of the table with her fingers until they turned white and smiled politely, "I know exactly who I'm talking to."

Soujiro sweatdropped and was rather disturbed by the turn the confrontation was taking. He especially did not like the sugary sweet tone in Kuri's voice.

The boasting drunk apparently missed the note of warning in the sweetness of her tone, "Is'at so? And who am I, little pup?"

Kuri let go of the table at once and banged her fist down on it, shouting at the same time, "A stupid, unmannered lout!"

The drunk was apparently not as drunk as he seemed, because at this new outburst, he reached out and collared Kuri, dragging her across the straw mat of the restaurant a few feet. He grabbed her left arm and straightened it, twisting it backward until he reached a tension. His breath on her neck was acrid with the smell of cheap alcohol.

"Now young pup, you say one more thing and I'll give you a new elbow, you understand?"

Kuri was stubbornly silent, although she had to be uncomfortable.

"I said, do you understand?!" the man snapped, twisting her arm harder. She made a little hurt sound and the man laughed, "Some tough little pup. He squeals like a girl."

Suddenly a softly polite voice sounded from the table beside him and the drunk turned to look, even as he still held Kuri in painful traction.

"Let him loose. I'll make sure he doesn't bother you any more."

The man laughed again, hot and still angry, "I haven't got this pup's answer yet. I'm not letting him go until he answers me real respectful like."

Soujiro's face was calm and benign as he placed his katana flat on the table in front of him.

"You don't understand," he said, clicking the blade out a fraction of an inch, yet bowing his head respectfully, "I said let him go, Drunkard-san."

Kuri's eyes widened and she struggled a bit at the end of his arm. His grip only tightened, but she still attempted to warn him, "Do what he says! Do what he says! He'll hurt you if you don't."

This warning had the exact opposite effect that Kuri had intended it to. The man sneered, "Is that a challenge, pup?"

Soujiro ignored the man's question and instead spoke again, "I'm counting to three."

Kuri wriggled and squealed out, "Iie, Soujiro-kun! Not here, not now!"

He held up a hand to reassure her, "Daijoubu , Kuri-san. Daijoubu. "

The drunk sneered back at him, "How 'bout I count for you? One, two, three! There, now come at me," the man put his hand down under the table, where his katana was presumably.

Soujiro smiled cleanly and nodded, "Hai."

He moved in a blink, certainly faster than the drunk could follow. He sprang smoothly, and if the drunk's eyes could have tracked the boy's movements, he would have been amazed at the fluidity and grace of his attack. Before the other man could move he brought his still sheathed katana perpendicular to his body and using one hand as a pivot and the sword as a lever, he dealt a sharp blow to the base of the man's skull. The drunk's eyes bulged slightly, but then unfocused as he slumped forward, right on top of Kuri.

She was less than pleased with his bulk on top of her and she fretted and squirmed and made an awful racket until Soujiro helped roll him off her. This accomplished, he turned to the rest of the table and bowed formally.

"Sumimasen, I didn't wish to disturb your dinner. Drunk-san is out cold and probably will be for a few hours. I hope this doesn't inconvenience you."

One of the men at the table was an elderly and pleasant looking man. He had his hands folded over a bound leather book on the table, but when Soujiro spoke, he bowed in turn and responded, "Not at all, young man, not at all. In fact I think you have just done us a great service. I take it by the sword you carry that you were a samurai."

Soujiro benignly corrected, "I'm a ronin."

"On a journey?"

Soujiro nodded politely, "Hai."

The man looked excited, "Are you going to Kyoto perhaps?"

Soujiro nodded again and wondered what the man wanted.

"Splendid!" the old man rubbed his hands together, "Then I have an offer that will suit us both I think. Will you sit down?"

Curious, Soujiro nodded and sat at the table, even as Kuri dragged the drunk's carcass a few feet away unceremoniously. One of the waitresses saw her as she did this and offered to help drag the guy out and dump him in the street. This plan delighted her, so soon the two girls were busy lugging the lout's carcass out. Soujiro concentrated him attention on the old man fairly confident in the fact that Kuri would not get herself into more trouble.

"I am a horse merchant by trade. I have bred and sold horses for most of my life, and I have developed a fondness for the animals, aside from monetary gain. Recently, when I was in Yokohama, I met a Dutch horse trader on a boat. He told me he traded European horses to enterprising Japanese traders, and he exhibited a fine specimen. The stallion was big, a great deal bigger than our native horses, and it was strong, with slender legs and fine hooves, a real beautiful animal. Well, naturally I was sold the moment I saw him. I told the trader at once that I'd have the pick of the next shipment that came in. Well, they came in just recently. Twenty-two of the loveliest horses you've ever seen," he smiled pleasantly and Soujiro noted that he squinted almost all of the time. 

After a moment, he continued, "I have several good horse hands to help me transport the beasts, but I don't have any protection at all. There are bandits rumored to be working the road ahead. That gentleman you dispatched was supposed to be our guard. I hired him just a town back after we saw some suspicious people sneaking around our camp one night. As you can see he was really in no condition to guard anyone," he shrugged, but then smiled, "You on the other hand, young man, are a superb fighter. I would be willing to pay you a nice sum, and give you room and board and horses to ride to Kyoto, if you'd only ride with us and scare off any horse thieves."

Soujiro was about to politely decline when a voice and his shoulder cried out, "Sugoi!"

He turned to see Kuri bouncing up and down behind him, "Riding beats walking after all, and we'll be paid! And have free food!"

The old man smiled kindly, "And of course your brother can come along too. I'm sure you're both from a good samurai line. It would be a honor to travel with you."

Soujiro sweatdropped and Kuri blinked. Soujiro thought over Kuri's points and then added the extra incentive of the faster speed they'd get to Kyoto. This was a positive because something was calling him back to Kyoto urgently, and he wanted to get to the bottom of their recent attack. Thoughts of the attack suddenly put another idea into his mind.

He bowed again politely "Hai, we are honored by your offer and accept it."

He could sense Kuri fidgeting uncomfortably behind him, but even when she poked him in the ribs, he pretended as if every thing was perfectly normal. She was mystified.

The elderly man rubbed at his left eye absently and then added, "Splendid. It's a contract then. I'm sure you have a few bits of business to finish up before joining us. Our camp is right outside of town. When you're ready, just come by and we'll get you situated for the night."

Soujiro nodded politely and bowed as he rose from his sitting position. Taking his leave of the old business man, he gently ushered the protesting Kuri along until they were well away from the restaurant. Finally, she could stand it no longer and burst out.

"Why didn't you correct him? We're not brothers, baka!"

"I know Kuri-san, but I thought that it would be wise to cultivate such a mistake," he smiled neutrally.

"Why? How does it help us at all?"

"Well, since we're now travelling with other people, I now have to consider them as well as you, and perhaps whoever is looking for me will not think to look for two young samurai brothers."

"Looking for you? Who's looking for you?" her eyes widened, "You mean you think more bad people are going to attack us?"

His smile didn't waver, "Hopefully not, that's why we're brothers, Otouto-chan."

She blushed for a moment at the bizarrity of the thought but then pushed herself on into more normal subjects, "What a great deal! We get a free ride to Kyoto, with a place to sleep every night! Best of all we get paid for it! I wonder what kind of food we'll have. I hope we have lots and lots of meat every night . . . "

She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Worried by her sudden stop Soujiro shot a scrutinizing look over at her, clothes by a bland smile. She looked absolutely and totally horrified.

"Kuri-san?" he asked concernedly, gently gripping her shoulder.

"I left my entire dinner back at that sake house! I didn't get to eat a bite of it!" she wailed, clutching at the hem of her gi fitfully.

Soujiro almost fell over but regained control of himself. He laughed comfortably and the said, "Daijoubu, we'll get you something else to eat tonight."

Kuri sniffled, "You promise?"

He patted her back, "I promise."

She smiled brightly as she bounced on ahead of him, "I'm going to order chicken! A whole chicken! And we'll eat it all because we're going to be rich soon!"

He grinned at her antics even as he sped up to keep in step with her. Amused at her concept of wealth, he laughed and agreed, "Hai, a whole chicken."

Pumped by the entire situation, she jumped up and then landed on her toes.

"Nii-san wa kakkoi!"

*


	7. The Road to Kyoto: Under the Protection ...

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter Seven -- The road to Kyoto -- Under the protection of a demon

By Gabi

After taking care of a few minor responsibilities (which included buying a whole chicken for the famished Kuri) Soujiro and his "younger brother" headed out to the encampment.

It was easy to spot in the dusk. There was a large campfire and several men gathered around it. There were tents pitched not far off, and horses, some picketed, some hobbled, grazed nearby. Soujiro could also make out the shadowy form of a carriage parked near a small stand of trees. 

The camp had a very friendly atmosphere. The fire was warm and cheery, and as soon as he and Kuri drew up to it, several voices called out greetings in a sporadic ripple as the others gathered around the fire noticed them. Soujiro replied politely, and Kuri waved, although she stuck close by his side. 

After a minute or so, one of the men decided it would probably be wise to rouse the foreman. One of the younger hands was sent on this errand, and he returned in a few moments, escorting a small and homely man. The man smiled widely and introduced himself Kenji. He formally welcomed them to the camp and informed them that Tanaka-san, whom they discovered was the friendly old man they had met in the restaurant, had gone to bed after telling him to extend every hospitality to their two new guards.

Kenji was very friendly, and also rather talkative. He had been Tanaka-san's foreman for five years now and had worked for him for over fifteen, he informed them, making conversation as he led them around the camp. The first place he brought them to was the camp cook fire. There was still some rice and vegetables left in the pot and Kenji offered them dinner, but both Kuri and Soujiro were quite full, having so recently disposed of an entire chicken. Kenji also informed them that if they were hungry any time during they day, the cook could generally rustle up a cold snake to tide them over until the next meal. Kuri squealed at this and Kenji couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

After the cook fire, they passed briefly through the tents the horse hands shared, but Kenji promised they'd return and tour the sleeping area in greater detail after seeing the horses. Near the tents, six small native ponies were picketed. Some of them grazed undistracted by their guests, but one came as close to them as his picket line would allow. Kenji patted the friendly horse and fed him a stem of greenery he had pilfered from the cook fire.

"These are the horses we ride," he explained, "They're the pick from Tanaka-san's farm. They're all steady and friendly, more reliable horses you can't find anywhere," he rubbed the darker ridge along the bay pony's back, "They're called Hokkaido Washu. These are mainly the horses Tanaka-san keeps. We don't have any European horses at the farm. This group's the first we're bringing in. Tanaka-san hopes to improve our stock by cross breeding them with these new Western horses."

He patted the pony again before turning, "But there's no use rambling on about the new horses. It'd probably do better if I just showed you them. They are something else."

With that, he began the tour again, this time leading them off behind the parked carriage. There, under the supervision of two horsemen, grazed fifteen hobbled horses. They were indeed something, as the moonlight filtered down on them. These horses were much larger than the Japanese ponies that they had just left, and they were finer boned. They were slender, not stocky, and they picked up their feet gracefully, despite the fact that they were hobbled together.

"Don't they beat all?" laughed the foreman, "They're huge, but they're also thin. From the muscles on their back legs they look like they'd be fine jumpers and fast runners. These are soldier's horses, not farm animals. Tanaka-san calls then Dutch Walmubroods," he had some difficulty getting his mouth around the strange foreign words, but he seemed familiar enough using them, "The only problem is, they can be a little skittish. We're hoping to crossbreed the Hokkaido Washu with these horses to produce a fast, reliable, medium sized horse. Now, I love our horses, but just think what kind of horse you'd have then!"

Soujiro agreed that such an animal would be splendid. Kuri was quite interested in examining these mysterious foreign horses up close, but she was reluctant to stray very far away from Soujiro, as their new place in this group suddenly made her shy. Soujiro was amazed because for once she was extremely quite. Still, he kept a close eye on her, even as Kenji led them back to the tents. He had no great desire for Kuri to accidentally stampede the already twitchy herd of foreign horses.

They stopped in front of an unobtrusive canvas tent. This, Kenji explained, was their sleeping quarters. Every morning, one of the hands would come by and back up the tent for storage on one of the pack ponies, and every night, one of the hands would unpack it and set it up for the two guardsmen. Since they were basically soldiers, protectors of the herd, the foreman intoned, the hands were supposed to treat them with respect. They couldn't be bothered with simple things like tent maintenance.

Soujiro smiled politely, but declined the service. He felt that the honor was undeserved, and it somehow didn't fit into his journey as the ronin. He asked that one of the hands come by in the morning to help him take it down the first time and show him which animal to pack it on. He'd take care of it after that. The foreman was a bit abashed, and Soujiro was worried that he'd take the rejection of help as an insult, so he calmly and politely added that it was the least he could do to repay the kindness of their loan of an animal for him to ride all the way to Kyoto.

This pacified the foreman, and also distracted him. He informed them that they'd meet their mounts in the morning, and also warned that they broke camp early, just before dawn. Soujiro thanked the foreman again, and then the little man scurried off, back to his own tent, the boy presumed. By this time, the fire was burning low, and most of the men had already retired to their tents. Soujiro could see nothing else pressing, other than sleep, so he motioned Kuri into the tent.

Kuri's eyes widened, and she spoke for the first time since their entrance into camp, "You want me to sleep in there?!"

Soujiro blinked, caught completely off guard, "Hai, Kuri-san," he managed to reply pleasantly.

Kuri's mouth worked for a moment but no sound came out. She blushed a pale pink before finally managing, "With you?"

Soujiro scratched the back of his head in puzzlement, and nodded again, without thinking about it.

Kuri swallowed and then drew her wrist to her forehead and gazed wistfully at the stars, "Alas, I must bid farewell to my childhood tonight," she sniffled.

Suddenly understanding began to dawn on him and he himself flushed a little, although it was hard to discern in the darkness, "Kuri-san," he began, in an attempt to correct her.

She sniffled again before rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes, "It's all right Soujiro-kun, I'm ready."

Soujiro almost fell over, but he somehow managed to retain his balance. Kuri apparently wasn't connecting all the other nights they'd slept less than two feet apart up with the tent. He sighed and rubbed his temples. There was nothing else for it.

He disappeared into the tent for a moment or two, leaving Kuri extremely confused and shivering in the night air. She fidgeted and played with the hem of her gi, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She had almost steeled her courage to go into the tent, when Soujrio suddenly reappeared with a blanket. This added to her confusion.

"Daijoubu, Kuri-san, I'll sleep outside," he smiled absently, arranging his blanket neatly in front of the tent.

Kuri shook her head, trying to make sense of it all, and Soujiro thought she made quite a humorous picture. He almost giggled out loud. She was so naïve. He took her arm gently and ushered her into the tent, because he wasn't sure if she would go in herself. He patted her on the back, buttoned the tent, and settled out in front of the door, all before she could think of anything to say. When she finally did think of something, her voice was still confused, although her words were to the point.

"Oyasumi, Soujiro-kun," the last note trilled a little high, as if it was a question.

"Oyasumi, Kuri-san. Sleep well."

*

Soujiro rose early the next morning, his uncomfortable bed, perhaps part of the reason. He roused Kuri as well, and they both had a pleasant breakfast of porridge with the other men. Kuri had apparently forgotten (or entirely disregarded) the incident of the previous evening, and chatted on with Soujiro about how happy she was that they could ride instead of walk to Kyoto. She could hardly wait to see their pony.

"Ponies," Soujiro corrected absently, but Kuri either wasn't listening, or hadn't heard him, because she took no notice of his correction and prattled on about how much wear it would save her feet.

The foreman, overhearing their conversation chuckled and said that he had a great surprise of the enthusiastic lad. Kuri couldn't wait to see her promised present, so she hurried Soujiro through the remains of his meal and then dragged him off to see her mysterious surprise. Kenji took great delight in her enthusiasm.

The surprise was a very large, very foreign, very male, stallion. Kenji explained that they only had one extra pony, so one of the boys needed a mount. Tanaka-san had suggested that Kenji cut the hobbles on one of the foreign horses for the younger boy to ride as far as Kyoto, since the lad showed such enthusiasm for horses. Kenji had picked this horse himself, and he assured Kuri that the horse was swift and spirited, yet as gentle as a kitten.

Kuri didn't think he bore any resemblance to a kitten at all, and she clamed up with the presentation of this enormous surprise. Kenji was a little distressed at Kuri's lack of enthusiasm, but Soujiro assured him that Kuri was merely speechless with pleasure. Kenji beamed at this and left them for a moment to find a saddle and bridle that would fit the large horse. As soon as he'd gone, Kuri tugged viciously on Soujiro's sleeve.

"Nani?" he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder.

"Soujiro-kun!" she fretted fitfully, "I don't have any idea how to ride a horse!"

He had not considered this, "But that's all you've been talking about for the past day and a half," he sweatdropped.

"I was just happy that I wouldn't have to walk all the way to Kyoto," she squealed in dismay, "I've never ridden a horse before. I can saddle them up and everything. I know how to curry them down. The innkeeper made sure I knew how to do that so he wouldn't have to pay a stable boy, but I've never ridden a horse before, let alone one that big!"

This presented a bit of a problem, "If people realize you can't ride, they'll know that you're not really from samurai stock, and they may begin to think that you aren't my bother," he intoned softly, "And then they'll begin wondering who you are, exactly. We have to conceal the fact that you can't ride."

She shifted from one foot to another, hopping about like she did whenever she got suitably distressed, "But anyone who sees me on a horse will know, especially these men. They've worked with horses their whole lives!"

He raised up a comforting hand, "It's all right. You'll just ride behind me. I'm sure I can think of some reason why that's necessary. All you'll have to do it hold on."

He turned his attention to the large black stallion, "Now we come to this problem. If we ask Kenji-san to rehobble him and put him back with the rest, I'm sure he'll be offended. We have to avoid that, of at all possible. We want all the people travelling with us to like us," he murmured under his breath, half to himself, "I apparently have enough enemies as it is."

Kuri shivered, "But we can't ride him, can we Soujiro-kun? He's so high off the ground," she did not sound pleased at the prospect.

Soujiro shook his head, determined to pacify as many people as possible, "Iie, we'll ride the Hokkaido Washu they bring for me, but we'll saddle this one up as well, under the pretense that you'll ride him. We'll tell Kenji-san that we both need to be on one horse because it will keep the defensive cluster tight. That's nonsense, but he won't know the difference." 

Soujiro kept silent about the other reason he wanted the horse saddled and ready at all times. He knew that the people on his trail might attack again at any time, and in such a situation, he wanted to be able to shove Kuri onto a fast horse and get her out of the situation as quickly as possible. He never again wanted a repeat of the situation they had so recently faced.

Kuri seemed to have been appeased, and she quieted down noticeably after asking one final question, "You're sure everything will be all right?"

He nodded, smiling pleasantly, "Hai, hai. Don't worry yourself."

She forced a nod and let go of his gi.

"I'm going to go and see about my horse. You stay here and wait for Kenji-san to come back," he smiled pleasantly, "But don't go too close to that horse," he warned, before leaving on his own errand.

Kuri stood in place for more than ten minutes, waiting for Kenji's return, but eventually, her curiosity got the better of her, and she slowly crept a little closer to the large horse. He didn't seem to mind at all, so she crept a little closer. She murmured a few soft, gentle words to reassure the horse, as she'd often done while cleaning out stalls at the inn. He shifted positions a little, but was otherwise not disturbed. Kuri tentatively placed a hand on his large flank and stroked the velvet soft skin. The stallion nickered happily and Kuri was delighted. She'd made a new friend. Maybe she'd ask Soujiro to saddle up this horse after all.

While Kuri was happily petting the stallion's flank, he idly nosed over to her low pony tail. She squealed in surprise, but the horse took no notice, he simply calmly grabbed hold of her ponytail with his teeth and gave it a sharp yank. 

Kuri cried out and was yanked over backwards. She had to roll to avoid the horse's hooves, as she had fallen underneath him. She tumbled three times and then sprang to her feet, scowling at the horse.

"What'd you do that for!?!! I was just trying to make friends!"

The horse took a few steps forward, clicking it's teeth together so she could hear them.

"Akuma!" she squealed angrily, "You're a devil's horse!"

The horse nickered again and seemed quite pleased with the name. 


	8. The Devil on a Moonless Night: The Road ...

Tears and Rain

Tears and Rain

Chapter Eight -- The Devil on a moonless night: The road grows ever longer

By Gabi

Kuri's butt was sore. They'd been on the trail all day, and now as dusk drew on, Kuri was quite tired of her bumping seat. She was riding behind Soujiro, her arms loose around his waist to make sure she wouldn't fall off. When they'd first started that morning, she had been paranoid about falling off, and had kept a vise grip on him, so tight that he'd been obliged to ask her to loosen it, so he could breathe. 

She had long ago relaxed into the dull monotony of riding, and her loose posture proved it. She was quite ready to stop for the night, and the image of the tent with it's warm blankets haunted her vision. She blushed a little, remembering her misconstruing of his intentions the night before. It'd be a long time before she made an association like that again, she assured herself.

Still, the rhythmic clop of the pony's hooves was relaxing, and the farther they went, the closer and closer Soujiro's back seemed, until finally, she was leaning against it, her hands still loose around his waist to keep her from falling off. His back was warm from the sun, and as she snuggled against it, she felt so comfortable that she was almost drifting off . . .

"Kuri-san," Soujiro's voice was an unpleasant reminder that they were still on the back of his small pony, "Be careful not to fall asleep or you might fall off."

"Hai," she responded begrudgingly, although her voice seemed rather faint. 

She made absolutely no attempt to move, and Soujiro's smile softened, although Kuri couldn't see it from her position snuggled against his back. 

They went on for a ways, Soujiro having to shift slightly from side to side to keep Kuri from pitching off the pony's back after she went to sleep. It wasn't hard, since her arms stayed around his waist, even in her half-slumber. In fact, her arms had tightened a little, probably an unconscious reaction in an attempt to stay the bumping and swaying of the horseback ride.

He had to admit, it felt pleasant having her close to him, and it wasn't merely the body warmth that two people in close proximity generated. Since running across the odd young girl who shared the small riding saddle with him, he had discovered a purpose for his life. Protecting and watching over this one girl, no matter how insignificant it might seem, was important in it's own way. 

He felt a deep seeded contentment settle over him as he rode, making his habitual adjustments to keep her in the saddle. He was happy. She made him happy. It was as simple as that. 

He felt her stir slightly against his back, rubbing her eye or fisting up a handful of the loose material at the small of his back and this movement broke up his absent musings. He directed his wandering thoughts back to the road and noted that they were slowing to an easy stop by a stream. 

Soujiro guided his pony into the grass beside the other horsemen, although he stayed mounted while they disembarked to picket their ponies and secure the herd. He stayed in the saddle because he couldn't foresee anyway to dismount without knocking his companion off of the horse as well. Seeing no other alternative, he bent one of his arms behind him and felt for a body part to shake, hoping he wouldn't grab something inappropriate. 

His hand grazed her ear, and he traced the curve of her jaw around to her chin with his fingertips. From there it was pretty easy to locate her shoulder, although from the odd position his arm was in, he couldn't exactly shake it. He settled for the next best alternative and poked her.

She stirred again and muttered some words of protest, although it was apparent that she was still asleep. Soujiro poked her again, and this time she seemed to come half-awake, and her response became more intelligible.

"Go away. I'm comfy . . ." she trailed off again, and he could feel her snuggle back against his back. He felt relieved that there were no other horsemen around to see the spectacle. He doubted they looked very brotherly.

He prodded her again and she whined out, "Leave me alone. Come back tomorrow. I don't want to scrub the steps now."

"Kuri," he began, a bit exasperated, to which she sleepily responded,

"I want that rice cake, Souchan!"

He sweatdropped and then tried again, "Maa maa Kuri-san, I promise if you just wake up for a while, I'll set up the tent and you can sleep until morning."

She was still half-asleep, he could tell, and negotiating with someone who is half asleep is not always that easy, "No no. I'm comfy now. I like this."

He poked her again, "Kuri-san, please wake up. You have to get off of the horse. I can't carry you anywhere, then they'll know something is strange about us."

Her voice was small and tiny, pleading delicately, "Can I have that rice cake?"

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Apparently she even dreamt of food.

"Hai hai, Kuri-san, I promise, just wake up."

He felt her stir against him more determinedly this time. Apparently she had proper motivation now. After her felt her sit up on her own and regain her balance, he slipped off the horse, just in time to catch her as she fell sideways into slumber again. He set her easily on the ground and gently shook her until he was positive she was at least partially awake. 

He gave her the reins to the pony and charged her with picketing him, and the larger Dutch horse, whom was tied by a long lead the small pony's saddle, while he set up their tent. She murmured something about being hungry, and threatened to settle back down on the ground to take another little nap. Soujiro worried about the large Dutch horse stepping on her while she slept, so he refused to budge until she started off to the back of the camp, which was springing up around them like a garden full of weeds, to picket the two animals.

Once he was sure that she was at least headed in the direction of the other picketed horses, he set off himself, to the growing pile of baggage that was being unloaded from the pack animals. Their tent, he noted, had already been unpacked and sat in a neat little bundle off to the side. Probably someone had preformed this nicety because he was late to the pile. He had to admit, these horsemen were congenial folk.

He gathered up the bundle and carried it off to the outskirts of the rapidly developing tent village. Setting up the tent was not complicated, Soujiro discovered, but was rather tedious instead, especially in the deepening dusk. After about twenty minutes, Soujiro was satisfied with his construction, so he put Kuri's blankets in a neat little pile inside the tent, making a point of leaving his outside the tent. He didn't want Kuri to put them in a predicament similar to the one the night before, after all.

After finishing with the tent, he headed back to the fire, where he was sure Kuri had retreated to by this point, as night had almost completely fallen. Sure enough, he found the girl grinning and wide awake beside the fire, a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. She had gotten to the fire early, he could tell, because the log she sat on was completely tenanted. Soujiro was obliged to take of a seat almost directly across the fire from her. 

She chatted amiably with her companions about the ride, and when the dinner was dished out, she ate voraciously, and the horsemen on the log with her laughed and slapped her on the back. Soujiro thanked the heavens that she had no delicate sensibilities that might give her away as a girl. The men did tease her about her voice, but they also called her ''laddie-buck'' and said that it'd deepen in time.

They spent about an hour around the fire, eating, enjoying its warmth, and listening to stories, but after a while, the foreman announced his intention of turning in for the night, and the group broke up from there. Kuri and Soujiro lingered, enjoying the warmth for a few more minutes, until finally, one of the hands smothered the fire and banked the embers for the night.

With the fire smoldering out, Soujiro rose and headed back towards their tent, Kuri trotting after him. She prattled on, in a low voice, about how good the food had been, and how interesting the stories were, and how glad she was that she was going to get to go to bed. Soujiro listened idly on, smiling absently, by this time quite accustomed to her outbursts, and quite glad that she was moderating her voice, so not to wake the other horsemen who were trying to turn in themselves.

Absently, in an attempt to add to their one-sided conversation, he asked if she had picketed the horses in a spot with plenty of grass. She had responded by looking absolutely blank. This worried him, so he repeated his question. She blinked and asked him what he was talking about. Patiently, he explained that he had left the care of the horses with her, as her only responsibility of the evening. She honestly replied that she couldn't remember anything about it at all.

"Come again?" he smiled serenely, "I must not have heard you right. I thought you said that you couldn't remember picketing the horses."

She fretted a bit before answering, "You head right. I don't remember." 

He breathed in slightly, but gave her no other tells before simply stating, "I see."

Kuri balled up fists of the loose material of her gi and looked ashamed. He was disappointed in her, she could tell. Whether or not he actually told her didn't matter at all. In fact, the fact that he refused to tell her ground the feeling in that much deeper. It was as if he were sparing her feelings, even from a remonstration she deserved. 

Her eyes teared up at the corners, but she refused to cry. Instead she managed to blurt, "I'm going to go make sure that the horses are ok. You go on to sleep," before fleeing into the disapproving comfort of the darkness.

Her reaction caught him completely off guard, but he made no move to follow her into the darkness. It was, after all, probably best to leave her alone for a while. 

*

As she walked off alone through the already dew damp grass, her emotions settled down a bit. She knew that when she arrived at the picket lines she'd find their two horses grazing peacefully. There was no other possible outcome. She paused. All right, there were several other possible outcomes, but none of them were pleasant. She could do nothing but hope for the best.

Arriving among the picket horses, she calmed herself and thought singularly about finding the horses happily picketed, as if this singularity of thought would make her hope a reality. The grass where the horses were picketed was knee deep, and it dampened the legs of her hakama. Sighing, she patiently checked each of the horses in the darkness, her eyes becoming gradually accustomed to the darkness as she went along. 

Finally, near a copse of trees, she found the large Dutch horse and the smaller Japanese horse grazing placidly. The small Japanese pony even came over to her and nuzzled her hand. She patted his neck and scratched his neck and was about to leave when the large Dutch horse nickered at her. 

Kuri was so pleased at finding the two horses safe and sound, she forgave the larger horse his earlier transgressions and went over to give him a pat as well. She was quietly approaching him from behind when she heard a twig snap right behind her. She froze and her heartbeat immediately sped up, although she knew that there were a hundred different mundane reasons for the sound. She waited to see if there would be another.

Then a strong hand clamped firmly over her nose and mouth and hauled into a rough embrace.

Kuri tried to scream but the air, having no other place to go, was forced back into her lungs. Her ears popped from the effort of it, and the grip she was held in began to make her feel dizzy. 

Suddenly a voice sounded hot and familiar against her ear, "Now I can give you what you deserve." He laughed low, wet, and rancid. 

Her mind raced. Who was he? Who was he? Was it someone after Soujiro? No, that didn't make sense. It was someone after her, he had said so himself. The dizziness was affecting her thought patterns. Then suddenly she had it, like a blind man falling over the truth of all existence. It was the man from the bar. It was the man Soujiro had knocked unconscious. Her eyes squeezed shut. He seemed infinitely more dangerous now, with a hand clamped over her mouth and another holding her shoulder in place. Tears squeezed unbidden from the corners of her eyes. He was going to smother her. Then the tension between the hands on her mouth and shoulder tightened, as if in a test move. She tried to whimper, but could make no sound. He was going to snap her neck. She was going to die. Right there. Right then. She felt her stomach muscles tighten and then flop over. She felt as if she were going to retch.

He sneered, "Yes, you know who I am now, don't you? When you get to hell, be sure to tell the devil I sent you."

He gripped tighter and Kuri knew that her life was going to end in one quick jerk. Then, before he could move, Kuri felt the man knocked away from behind her. She fell forward onto her knees, and took a ragged breath before struggling onto her feet. She didn't look back, but threw herself into another maddening headlong run back to the tent, stumbling most of the way, because the restraint on her oxygen flow had numbed her senses. 

She was so impaired that she almost didn't notice when she blundered into someone, and tried to scramble over him. The person she had blundered into coddled and hushed her and as she self-hyperventilated in the safety of familiar arms, she managed to wheeze out that she'd been attacked. She felt him stiffen, and he carefully let her loose and started off in the direction she'd come in. 

She grabbed two fistfuls of his gi and clung to his back, unwilling to be left behind, or alone. His voice was soft and seemingly unaffected.

"All right. Stay right behind me."

He needn't have warned her, because she clung like a second skin, jumping at every stray hoof stamp. Silently, she guided him along by tugging at his gi. They made more noise than he would have liked to, but it was mostly covered by the ambient sounds of the horses.

Soujiro approached their horses stealthily, creeping low through the grass; Kuri couched behind him, bewilderedly. After they had moved this way for a minute or two, Soujiro rose almost absently. Kuri, still bewildered, follow him up.

"Won't he see us?" she whispered frantically, and he felt her small hands fretting against the small of his back.

"It doesn't matter if he hears us," he answered truthfully. 

"What?!!" he voice was incredulous, and oddly high pitched.

He gently took her arm and drew her out from behind him, at the same time pointing to a crumpled heap in a flattened out patch of grass. Kuri stood rooted in place as Soujiro moved to examine the dead man.

He rolled the man over, took a long look in the darkness and then rolled him back to lie on his face. Kuri didn't have to see anything more than she had already seen. Quietly, he came back to her, after stopping to pat the large Dutch horse on the rump. He nickered.

"What happened?" she asked helplessly, "I don't understand."

"He was holding you behind the horse, wasn't he?" he asked softly. He was turned from her, and in the darkness, she couldn't see his face.

"Hai."

"Akuma didn't like that. He bucked and kicked that man, as far as I can tell. It looks like it broke lots of his ribs. One of them probably punctured a lung," he did not add that it looked as if the large horse had then made an effort to trample the man's skull in.

She managed a nervous smile, "Then he was looking out for me. Maybe he isn't so bad after all . . ."

She didn't get a chance to finish that statement, because all of the sudden she was yanked off her feet forcibly by her pony tail.

"Akuma! Akuma! Take back all the nice things I said about you! You are a demon!" she squealed angrily.

In her company, Soujiro found it easy to let go of his cares in a long, soft laugh.


	9. Wolf Among the Lambs: Things Are Not Wha...

tearsandrain-9

Tears and Rain 

Chapter 9 -- Wolf among the lambs: Things are not what they seem to be 

By Gabi 

* wareyaiba literally means "fragile broken sword" 

Kuri was amazed by the size of Kyoto. It was so busy! The streets were like dancing rainbows of color as beautiful women in kimono or tall men in gi and hamaka bustled by. It was noisy. A dozen different spoken fragments would have broken into their own conversation, had Kuri not been struck speechless by the city. A hundred different smells accosted her, not all of them pleasant. As they passed through a market, three or four merchants tried to draw her attention to their wares, but she could only shake her head silently and press closer to Soujiro, suddenly shy. 

Soujiro led them through streets deftly. There was a practiced ease about the way he bobbed and wove through the crowds, drawing her behind him as if she were a duckling and he was the watchful hen. He wasn't worried about loosing her, as she had a fierce grip on the edge of his sleeve. He was amused by the way she reacted to the city. There was awe in her eyes and she had not recovered sufficiently to speak. Not that they could really have a conversation as he navigated through the everyday bustle of the city. It was probably good that she was currently content to cling and contemplate in amazement. It gave him time to think. 

They had left the horse trader's caravan no more than an hour ago on the outskirts of the city and now a plump money pouch bounced inside Soujiro's gi. The full pouch meant one less worry for him, as he seriously doubted their ability to eke out a comfortable existence in Kyoto without proper funding. Since they were properly funded, Soujiro knew that they would at least have a roof over their heads and food to eat when they got hungry. Kuri had been ecstatic when she had seen how much money the horse trader had paid her "brother." 

Now as that they were actually in Kyoto, Soujiro was faced with a few problems that were not monetary in nature. First of all, he needed to investigate the circumstances around the two men that had been sent after him. There were several sources in the city that he could approach, men that were loyal enough to Shishio's memory that they would give the boy the information he needed. Shishio's spying network ran wide and deep. Soujiro was sure he would turn up something through his inquiry, and this is where he met his first obstacle: she was clinging gamely to his sleeve. 

Soujiro did not want to drag Kuri around the seedier districts in the city looking for information. He also did not want her to know that he was maintaining contact with his former life as a hitokiri, even if it was only once, and there was good reason for it. He suspected that if he made the connection in front of her, it would upset her greatly, and he worried that she would run off again . . . 

. . . and leave him alone, he finished in his mind. He was terribly afraid that she would leave him, although the dominant part of his mind ostensibly reasoned that he was only worried about her well being. After all, she had no idea how to take care of herself, really, and no one else to take care of her. Kyoto would swallow up her innocence and spit her our soiled within a few days, if she didn't have someone to watch over her. Yes. That was it. His reasons for wanting her with him were completely logical and unselfish. 

Besides, he was sure that whatever he found out from the contacts it would not be pleasant, and he didn't want Kuri to worry. It was another case where information would be shared between them only on a need to know basis. It was safer for her that way, both mentally and physically. He already knew that whoever was after him didn't mind going after her to draw him out. Briefly, he considered dropping her off somewhere where she would be safe for the duration of their stay in Kyoto, but he suspected that if he tried such a trick she'd leave whatever haven he'd found and plunge into the dangerous city to find him, and make sure he had dinner. It was safer from him to keep her close where he could keep an eye on her, despite the danger his presence now drew. 

The safest thing, he decided, would be to drop her off in a well populated area of town for a few hours, close to a restaurant full of ninja sure to help a girl in trouble. He could not very well drop her off at the Aoiya itself, because he suspected that with Himura back in Tokyo, his reception would be less than pleasant, no matter what his explanation. He suspected his relationship with Kuri would probably jeopardize her chances of receiving assistance from the Oniwa Banshuu. As nice as they seemed, he finished to himself, they were still ninja and would likely hold grudges, especially their moody and solemn former Okashira. 

Yes. It would be best to leave her near the Aoiya while he gathered information, not in it. If she needed help, some genki ninja girl would likely show up to provide it. The Oniwa Banshuu had a way of knowing everything that was going on in Kyoto. They wouldn't allow a girl to be accosted on their doorstop. Besides, if this issue with his attackers escalated, he wanted to save the Aoiya as a hidden card, a safe house where he could theoretically drop Kuri off if he worried that he might not return. From Soujiro's limited experience with the present Okashira, he doubted that she would throw an orphan in distress out on her ear. 

Still, that was a last resort. He seriously doubted the situation would escalate into something that dangerous. At present, he was simply going to let Kuri explore a little of Kyoto on her own (a little bit of Kyoto that was located conveniently near that Aoiya) while he attended to some business. However, it was always prudent to have a contingency plan. 

All the time he had been contemplating his options, he had been leading them closer and closer to the Aoiya. Now they were quite close, so Soujiro steered them off the beaten path and into an alley that was a shortcut to a street that intersected the one the Aoiya was on. The alley was deserted, which was somewhat odd for a bustling city like Kyoto, but this was not what bristled Soujiro. A sixth sense tingled the back of his neck, and he came to a stop rather suddenly, causing Kuri to stumble into his back. She was quick to squeal out an indignant question, but he hushed her with a twitch of his hand. 

"Step back Kuri," he warned, his voice soft as goose down. 

She was used to the nuances of his voice by now. This was a tone of command. She stepped backward silently, worry building inside her all the while. She picked at the hem of own sleeves as Soujiro took several slow steps forward, on guard. He knew that there was someone else in the alley. He was not prepared for who stepped out of the shadows. 

The man was tall and bony, and although he was obviously quite muscular, he was not bulky. He was sinewy, taunt and tense like a steel cable, always on guard, always ready to take action. He had slitted black eyes and his dark hair was smooth, slicked back against his head, although a few loose tendrils tried to obscure his face. The dark blue uniform he wore was familiar to Kuri, although he lacked the hat. Briefly she wondered if this man was going to challenge Soujiro's katana and try to haul them off to jail, but somehow, she knew that he wasn't an ordinary policeman. There was a causal animal grace about the way that he stood, and the long katana at his side seemed out of place on an officer. She didn't know much about swords, but she was fairly certain that his sword was different than the swords of the policemen she'd seen over the sukiyaki fiasco. 

There was also something in the way he stood in front of the two of them, striking a pose that was both casual and dangerous, a pose that said, "I am not worried about you because you could not hurt me if you tried." He lit a cigarette and took a long drag before speaking. 

"Konnichiwa, Tenken," he said, his face quirking into a sneer that made him seem much creepier and more threatening to Kuri, "Although I suppose you're not really the Tenken any more, are you? No heaven's sword anymore, more like a broken sword, eh, Wareyaiba?" 

"Hai, Fujita-san," Soujiro didn't seemed perturbed at all, his smile was bland and complacent, "How are you? How is Tokio-san?" 

The other man apparently didn't care to discuss his personal life, but he apparently did detect the slight motion Soujiro made with his sword hand, "Don't worry Wareyaiba," he sneered, "I didn't come for a fight. If I had wanted to hunt you down, I would have done so before you got away from Kyoto the first time. I do not procrastinate." 

Soujiro seemed to consider the point, and then concede, because his back muscles visibly relaxed and he shifted into a more comfortable stance, although Kuri suspected he was still on guard. She didn't think the man in front of them was a man you lowered your guard to ever, no matter what he might say. 

The tall man continued, "I'm here on official business, Wareyaiba. Recently, it came to the attention of the government that a large shipment of weaponry that went missing and was attributed to Shishio is still missing, even though we've been through all his known storehouses with a fine-tooth comb. Of course, you realize that this missing weapons shipment is making several members of the cabinet nervous, as it contained many advanced weapons, like gattling guns. I know that you know where the shipment is, Wareyaiba, and you will tell me." 

Soujiro inclined his chin slightly and his eyes became slightly hooded, "Or else?" 

The man smirked and took another drag on his cigarette before speaking, "Or else I drag you off to jail for the death of an innkeeper and the theft of an indentured servant and haul the servant back to the innkeeper's next of kin," he chuckled and it was a dark sound, "I know you've had fun playing house with your little bunny girl, but you know that I could shatter it in a second. Since the battousai broke you, you're no match for me. I could collar you in a second," he took another drag, "and you know it." 

Kuri was fed up with the creepy man, his creepy cryptic words, and his creepy cigarette, and she was not afraid to let him know it. She stepped boldly in front of Soujiro before he knew what she was doing and shouted at the lanky, dangerous policeman. 

"You can't threaten Soujiro-kun like that even if you are a policeman! This is the Meiji Era! Just who do you think you are?!" 

The man smirked at her display of bravado, and then spoke "Fujita Goro, one time third captain of the Shinsen Gumi, Saitou Hajime," he waited for her astonished response. 

Her mouth gaped and she looked quite impressed for about twenty seconds, then she put her hand behind her head and laughed nervously, "I still have no idea who you are," she finally admitted. 

Saitou's smirk vanished and his face was deadpan for several seconds. Soujiro looked as if he might topple over, but somehow he managed to maintain his balance. Kuri continued to laugh nervously with her hand behind her head, unaware of what had disturbed them both. 

Finally Saitou looked smug again and spoke directly to Soujiro, over Kuri's head, "I guess you did dig her out of some farm dung heap. She really is a brainless country rabbit. What the hell were you thinking when you asked her to come with you?" 

Kuri shot Saitou a glance laced with arsenic and her hands balled into fists. 

Soujiro sweatdropped, "Actually, Saitou-san, she just started following me." 

Saitou turned his attention to the girl again and leered at her, "Well maybe you're not the bunny girl. Maybe you're the dog girl instead since you follow so obediently." 

From the expression on her face, Soujrio half expected to see little storm clouds forming above Kuri's head. He did catch her leg muscles tense and was swift enough to restrain her before she attempted to pounce Saitou. 

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, "Well, maybe she has some kind of ignorant charm. I don't know. You have strange tastes, Wareyaiba." 

Soujiro sweatdropped even as Kuri continued to struggle against him, "Hai, Saitou-san." 

Saitou let his sword arm drop again, until it was dangerously close to his katana, "Back to business. Now that you have had time to think, what is your choice, Wareyaiba?" 

Kuri seemed to sense that the decision Soujiro made was an important one, so she stopped struggling and let him loose his hold on her. His hand lingered on her back, where Saitou couldn't see it, and she drew in a breath silently. He has still for several seconds and his head was bowed so that his hair obscured his eyes. Finally he spoke, and as he did, his hand pressed lightly against her back, as if he were reassuring himself of something. 

"In the mountains not far from here there's a village by a small lake renown for it's fresh water fish," his voice betrayed no emotion other than the pleasant politeness it always had, "Do you know the place I'm speaking of?" 

The tall man flicked the ash from his cigarette and nodded. 

"Across the lake from the village is a cave. You will know the cave because entrance is dynamited shut. The missing weapons shipment is in there." 

Saitou dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel, grinding the ash into the gravel of the alley. He looked smug. 

"That's all I wanted to know. Keep in mind, if you're not telling the truth, I'll be back and maybe I won't offer so many options next time." 

He turned on his heel and started off down the alley. As he left, he threw back one last warning, "Watch yourself Wareyaiba. It was no accident I was able to find you so easily. Someone left an anonymous tip with the local police that the known hitokiri and subversive element Tenken no Soujiro would be arriving in Kyoto today by way of the Tokyo road. I think someone wanted to sic Mibu's Wolf on you, Wareyaiba. You're lucky I have my own agenda," he make a sharp sound that Kuri would later classify as an audible smirk and then continued to walk away. 

Kuri was not willing to let him go so easily. She stomped her foot and demanded he come back and explain himself, but he paid her no heed. Soujiro's hand curled over her shoulder and he softly, "Let it go." 

She turned expecting him to look forlorn, or wistful, or nostalgic, or something, anything, other than the pleasant benign smile that always tenanted his face. She wanted the façade to slip, just for a second, just for her. She wanted to know what he was thinking and feeling. She wanted to know why his hand had lingered on her back. She wanted him to look at her for even a moment, unguarded and honest, laying all cards flat on the table, like he had the night they had been attacked by the two swordsmen. She wanted him to hold her. 

But he did nothing of the sort. His hand dropped from her shoulder and she regarded the blank benign wall of his countenance a little sorrowfully, although she didn't let it show, as if confronting his wall with her own wall somehow made things even, put them on the same level. It didn't make her feel any better. 

"It's all right, Kuri-san," he brushed past her lightly, before turning to look over his shoulder at her, "It wasn't anything important. Come along now, I have some things to do." 

Try as she might, she could do nothing but silently follow him. 

* 

Soujiro left her in the middle of a bustling square. She had some qualms about being left alone in the city, but she knew that he wouldn't have left her if she wasn't safe. She also knew that since he was leaving her alone, he was certain to return soon. There was no way he would ditch her in Kyoto, if he would even leave her at all. Kuri had a strong feeling that they were tied together now, and she hoped he felt the same way, no matter what he might say or do. So she let him leave her with nary a word, only a bright smile and a nod that answered his plea for her to stay in the general area so he would be able to find her easily when it was time for them to leave. 

After his back disappeared into the bustling crowd, she once again felt herself assaulted by the immensity of the city. There were a hundred things going on, all around her, and a thousand things to look at. She was at loss as to what to look at first when suddenly she spied a beautiful display of colored fabric in a plated window on the other side of the street. Like a butterfly to a flower, she was drawn to the colorful fabric, and at once set off for the window, bobbing and weaving through the crowd as she had seen Soujiro do. She was almost to the other side of the street when she heard an unhappy squeal and a small fast moving bundle collided with her legs. Kuri fell flat on her butt and the thing that had run into her legs landed with a flump in her lap. She barely had time to think before she found herself staring into the wide eyes of a small girl. Before she could speak, the girl's unhappy squeal irrupted into a full-blown sob and she rubbed her eyes with small balled up fists. 

Kuri was much distressed by this turn of events and hated to see the small girl cry. However, she couldn't help the child while the sat in the middle of the street, where they were already drawing unwanted attention. Kuri scooped up the child and carried her awkwardly off the street. She sat her down on the wooden sidewalk and then knelt to gently pat her on the back. 

"There, there. It's all right. No one is going to hurt you. I want to help you," she made sure her voice was as buoyant and friendly as possible. 

The girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes again before peeping out from behind her hands. Kuri decided it would be best to reassure the child of her friendly intentions now. 

"Konnichiwa," she smiled and bowed slightly, "Kuri desu. Hajimemashite." 

The little girl nodded and let a smile creep onto her face, "Toyotomi Chiyoko desu." 

Kuri patted the girl's back again, "Now Chiyoko-chan, what's wrong?" 

The little girl looked very solemn, "Okaa-san and Onee-chan are lost." 

"How did they get lost?" the girl's seriousness almost made Kuri giggle because she had an idea that the mother and older sister were not the ones who had gotten themselves lost. 

"I saw some candies in a window so I stopped to look, and when I turned around they were gone. I ran all around looking for them, but I guess I ran the wrong way, because they're lost now," her lower lip trembled. 

Kuri waved her hands as if warding something off, "Maa maa, don't cry. We'll find your mother and sister, I promise!" 

Chiyoko's voice trembled, "You promise?" 

"Hai hai," she extended her hand to the little girl. 

The girl took it and managed another smile. 

"Where did your mother and sister get lost?" 

The little girl looked confused and her face squinched up as if she were thinking about something hard, "I'm not sure. Somewhere close." 

"Hai," Kuri nodded. She had been afraid that the girl would not be able to provide much information. Well, there was nothing else for it. She and the girl were just going to have to hunt for the girl's mother in the near vicinity and hope that they found her, "Ano Chiyoko-chan, what does your mother look like?" 

The girl thought for a moment, "She's tall and very pretty. Her hair is really long and it goes to her waist when it's down, but she's wearing it like you do today, Kuri-san." 

The description was extremely vague. There was little hope that Kuri herself could pick out the girl's mother, and with the streets so busy, Chiyoko was too small to see much of anything. That meant the only solution to the problem was to get Chiyoko up to her own head level. She squatted in front of the girl, balancing herself with her fingertips, "Up you go, Chiyoko-chan. We're going to find your mother and sister." 

The girl looked a little skeptical, but urged on by Kuri's words, she clamored onto her back and locked her arms around her neck. After a bit of wobbling, Kuri managed to shakily stand up. Very soon a problem presented itself, and Kuri managed only a strangled, "Too tight!" before Chiyoko loosened her hold enough for her transportation to breathe. 

Once Kuri had recovered her breath, she asked, "Do you see your mother, Chiyoko-chan?" 

"Iie," the girl sounded discouraged. 

"Don't worry," Kuri lavished cheerfulness on the girl in an attempt to buck her spirits up, "I'm sure we'll find her soon!" 

"Hai!" the girl agreed. 

And so they set out on their mission to find Chiyoko's mother. Kuri wandered somewhat aimlessly under the direction of light tugs on her ponytail by the girl. After about a half an hour, Kuri was beginning to get extremely discouraged, and the weight of her passenger was beginning to tell in the way she dragged herself along. She was about to suggest they sit down and rest for a while when suddenly Chiyoko yelled right in her ear. 

"Okaa-san! Okaa-san! I'm over here!" she let go of Kuri's neck to wave her arms and Kuri had to stumble about underneath her to keep the wiggling girl balanced on her back. Kuri managed to regain her balance enough to let the child dismount, and before she could even turn to see this "okaa-san" Chiyoko was already enfolded deep in the dark red sleeves of a beautiful kimono. 

The woman who held Chiyoko was slender and had pale skin. Her hair was black as night and lustrous. It was confined at the nape of her neck by a lovely silk ribbon tied in an intricate knot. Kuri couldn't see her face at first, but when she turned her head Kuri could see that she had beautiful, fine features. Her expression was warm and kind, and she looked so relieved that Kuri thought she could even spot unshed tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were closed, but the lashes were dark and thick, like her hair. She was the most beautiful woman Kuri had ever seen. 

She talked to the little girl in soft murmurs for a few moments, then she rose and turned to Kuri, bowing deeply, "Domo arigatou for returning my child. I was terribly worried when she wandered off. Yoneko and I searched all over the square for her." 

It was at this point that Kuri noticed another child, slightly taller and slimmer than Chiyoko, peeping out from behind the woman. Unused to the respect and attention she was getting, Kuri blushed deeply and bowed in turn. 

"It wasn't anything ma'am," she fidgeted slightly, "She was in trouble. If I were in trouble I could only hope for someone to help me." In the back of her mind a voice softly reassured, _You have someone. You have someone to help you, to protect you, to . . ._

The woman smiled and it was soft and genuine, "Toyotomi Noriko desu, and these are my daughters, Chiyoko and Yoneko." 

Kuri bowed again, as if she couldn't show her subservience to the beautiful and benevolent woman enough, "Kuri desu." 

A look of gentle amusement crossed the woman's face at Kuri's repeated bowings, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." 

Kuri felt awkward in front of the lovely woman, but somehow, the woman's gaze made it all right, made her feel like no matter how awkward she was, it was all right, "The pleasure is all mine." 

Suddenly the smallest girl tugged on her mother's sleeve to illicit her attention, "Okaa-san, can we take Kuri-san to tea? Onegai? I want to thank her for helping me find you when you were lost." 

"Of course we can, Chiyoko-chan. It's the least we can do to thank her," she turned back to Kuri, "You will come with us, ne, Kuri-san?" 

"Ne, ne, Kuri-san?" Chiyoko echoed 

The prospect of free food coupled with spending a little more time in the presence of such a kind and beautiful woman was too much for Kuri to refuse. 

"I'm honored," she wasn't sure quite what etiquette called for, so she bowed again. 

The woman covered her mouth with her hand to conceal the soft smile, so that the serious girl would not be offended. 

"Wai!" squealed the younger girl and she barreled into Kuri's legs again, "Kuri-san is my best friend!" 

Kuri managed to maintain her balance against this assault, but the little girl didn't stop there. 

"Can I have another piggy-back ride?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide. 

All Kuri could do was sweatdrop. 

* 

The teahouse that the woman led them to looked expensive. Kuri didn't know much at all about tea ceremony, but Noriko was so gentle with corrections what Kuri didn't feel awkward and out of place. She guided her the same way she guided her errant younger daughter, and Kuri began to feel very comfortable in the small family's company. After they had seated themselves on the straw mats, Noriko proceeded to small talk, while the girls sat as still and as obedient as statues. 

"I hope you don't mind my asking, Kuri-san," Norkio intoned pleasantly, "But why do you wear a gi and hakama?" 

Kuri flushed slightly, "How did you know that I'm a girl? You're the second person today!" 

Noriko laughed softly before answering, "It's easy to tell. You're a beautiful girl. I hope one day that my girls are as pretty as you are. Boy's clothes can't make you into what you're not. They can't hide who you are. You're naturally very beautiful." 

Kuri blushed lightly and it was as if Noriko had touched a stormy part inside her and made it calm. She was pretty. Despite wearing the gi, despite tramping around all over the countryside, despite it all, she was pretty. _Maybe then . . ._

"I didn't mean to sound nosy," Noriko shook her head, "It's just that you should be wearing a kimono. You're too pretty to go around dressed as a boy," her smile was wistful, "And too young too. You are a beautiful flower, don't let your spring pass you by while you stay tightly budded." 

Kuri spoke falteringly, "I'd like to wear a kimono, but I don't have much money. I don't know how to wear one anyway," she shook her head, "I-I-I didn't think I was pretty enough for one. I'm just a poor girl from the country." 

Noriko shook her head matter-of-factly, "You are 'not just' anything. You saved one of my treasures today. You're a beautiful, kind, and practical girl and one day you will be a beautiful, kind, and practical woman. I say that it's a waste to see you not wearing a kimono," her voice was soft, yet strong as a willow branch. 

Kuri's voice trembled, "Arigatou, Toyotomi-san. You don't know how much what you're saying means to me." 

"Call me Noriko, Kuri-san. I can see that part of your life has been very hard, but you haven't lost your joy of life. I can see it in your eyes, and that is more beautiful than any cultured and tended beauty. Don't worry about where you came from. That makes no difference in your worth," she looked wistful again, "If I were your mother I'd be very proud of you." 

"Arigatou, Noriko-san, arigatou." 

"Kuri-san," her voice was serious, "You said you had very little money. Are you alone in Kyoto? Do you have a place to stay?" 

"Hai," she nodded and groped for a way to explain her situation politely to Noriko. However she did it, she felt it would be scandalous to the beautiful woman, and she felt somewhat ashamed for reasons she couldn't understand. Still she tried to explain it as best she could, "I'm travelling with someone. He's on a journey. We're looking for something." It was at this point that Kuri realized that Soujiro had never told her what he was looking for, and she had never pressed him. She hoped that Noriko wouldn't ask her a curious question about that. 

Noriko cocked her head sideways and curiosity shined in her eyes, "Are you married already, Kuri-san? You're so young." 

Kuri blushed a deep red and realized that she had let it slip that her companion was male. She shook her head and stuttered out a response, "Iie. He's my -- he's a friend. He takes care of me," she smiled thinking of the things they'd been through, "You don't have to worry about me, Noriko-san. He takes good care of me." 

The elder woman smiled fondly at her, "I see. I'm glad you have someone to take care of you. It's good to have someone you can depend on, and," she added softly, "Who can depend on you." 

Kuri somehow felt validated by Norkio's approval. As she sat looking across the table at the woman, she couldn't help thinking, _If I could have chosen my mother, I would have chosen her._ Then her thoughts drifted back to Soujiro and she felt her cheeks warm again, then suddenly, her eyes snapped open. 

"Noriko-san! What time is it? Can you tell me?" 

Noriko took a small gold watch out of her kimono and consulted it before replying, "Half past five." 

"Oh no!" Kuri bounced immediately to her feet, "I'm so late! He's probably waiting for me! I hope he didn't leave!" Then she seemed to realize that she had ruined the formal atmosphere of the teahouse. She looked to Noriko terribly afraid of seeing disapproval in her clear green eyes. Noriko was looking at her fondly, slight amusement on her face. She rose as well, so as not to make Kuri feel more awkward. 

"I understand, Kuri-san," she laughed, "Remember, I was young once too." 

Kuri smiled brightly at Noriko and the woman pressed a piece of paper into her hand, "This is my address. If you need anything while you're in Kyoto, don't hesitate to call on me." 

"Arigatou, Noriko-san. You've already helped me so much!" impulsively Kuri leaned forward, and Noriko smiled, enfolding her in the same protective hug she held her younger daughter in before. After a moment, Kuri pulled back and blinked light tears from her eyes. 

"Take care of yourself, Kuri." 

"Hai, you too Noriko-san. And Chiyoko-chan and Yoneko-chan too! You be good for your mother!" 

"Hai hai!" chorused Chiyoko, answering for herself and her shy older sister who simply blushed and nodded. 

With one last glance at the happy family, Kuri turned on her heel and dashed out the door intent on catching Soujiro before he tired of waiting for her. 

*   
Soujiro was waiting for her when she arrived back at the corner where he had left her. He was leaning against a wall comfortably and scanning the passing crowd. His hair was over his eyes, so she couldn't read his expression as she approached. Still, when he noticed her, he looked up and the sun caught in his indigo eyes making them seem to glow with an inner light. As he stood there, he seemed immense, like something she could never understand. He was a mystery. 

His expression was different too. It wasn't the complacent and familiar smile she knew so well. The smile was different, one side quirked higher than the other. He wasn't benign, he looked feral for one single moment, but it was not a look that frightened her, oddly. It was a look of possession, of protection. He was standing with the same sort of animal grace that the policeman had had earlier. At that moment, he might have been deadly to all the other people that bustled along the street around her, but somehow she knew, even as she stood frozen, the central object in his dangerous gaze, somehow she knew that she was safe, terribly safe. Everyone else might be dead, but she was safe. 

And she ran to him. 

Soujiro regained control of himself quickly, putting the Tenken away, and he wondered at himself. He had no reason to show her the Tenken. The things he had learned that day had been somewhat distressing, but nothing threatening enough to bring out the Tenken. No, the Tenken hadn't been forced out. Perhaps it was his doubt, plaguing him. He was forever worried that once she knew what he was, what he had been, she would run from him in terror. Now the road he faced was anything but pleasant and he wondered if she wanted to make the journey with him. He wondered if she *could* make the journey with him. Or maybe it was something about the way she came springing lightly through the crowd, looking more full of life than he had ever seen her. Or maybe it was just time. Maybe it was all of these reasons and more. It did not seem to be a question that could be answered in simple cause and effect terms. 

He was sure that she would run away again, if she ever saw the Tenken slip out from under his mask. She seemed to always crave his honesty, his true self. Perhaps this was some bizarre sense of humor that lived deep in the back of his mind. If she wanted him, she could have him. That voice was bitter. It never thought that she would see him glimmer as the Tenken, and then stand her ground. More than that. She had not run away. She had run to him. This realization shook him to the core. 

Run to him. Drawn. Bound together. Something stronger than fear had drawn her. She had run to him. For some reason this deeply satisfied a darker side of his psyche. He had thought that the Tenken half of him was the killer. He had thought that the killer, the dark side, had no emotions other than pleasure. He had separated them too much in his mind. Now he realized that the boy was not just an innocent child who lived only through pure emotions. The boy had a darkness in him too, but it was not an evil darkness. It was a wild darkness, a possessive darkness, a jealous darkness. It was a darkness born from an intense feeling for one person. It was a darkness he'd never known before. It was not the darkness of the Tenken. It was the darkness of a human soul. 

She ran to him. He opened his arms to catch her, and even as he did, the strange feeling swelled inside him and he felt extremely satisfied. If she would run to the very worst of him, then she had given herself over. One word pounded in his brain. _Mine_. 

Then in one split second the logical part of it's brain managed to assert itself and push the emotional part, which had grown so strong, deep under. He found his mind reverting back to the familiar and comfortable patterns it always traveled in, and the mask came slipping back over his features. 

"Kuri-san? Daijoubu?" his voice was the same softly accented tone she was familiar with. 

She pulled back out of his arms and studied his face intently, "Soujiro-kun?" 

He looked absolutely normal. Well, he looked like he did all the time, at least. The shell was up and the mask was so convincing that she almost rubbed her eyes. Had it been a trick of the light? She almost cried out in frustration, but she met his calmness with a light voice of her own. 

"I'm all right," she smiled and shook her head, "I just thought I saw something." 

"It must be the light," he murmured absently and she nodded, "It's dinner time and I'm hungry, shall we go eat?" 

"Hooray!" she squealed, falling into her old role, which she seemed to have outgrown. She made no other mention of the strange light in his eyes that evening, and he did not volunteer any information on it either. 

* 

Their meal was a satisfying one, physically at least. Since they had a good store of money, Kuri ate until she was full and her watchdog nature made sure he ate as well. But it was like they were skirting around poorly concealed gaping holes in the sand, dancing around issues that needed to be resolved. She wondered if he thought that she didn't notice. Of course, then he'd be selling her short just like everyone else did. She didn't want to think that about him. Maybe he just wasn't ready to open up to her. 

Since he made it clear that he did not want to discuss his activities that day she made no move to volunteer her own, but after a while, her own sullen silence got to her and she found herself talking about how amazing Kyoto was. She made no mention of Noriko or her daughters. It was as if having a secret from him, no matter how tame, gave her a little power over him, some of the same power he had over her. One part of her mind wanted to giggle and point and squeal, "I finally know something you don't know!" but she held herself. She wanted this to last for at least a few minutes. She'd tell him about Noriko and how nice she'd been in the morning. Maybe then his mind would have cleared and he'd realized how important visiting the woman had been to her. Maybe he'd finally open his eyes to her and see her the way Noriko had. 

In any case, that was in the morning. Now it was past dusk and Kuri was quite tired. She was also looking forward to sleeping at an inn. This was going to be the first real bed she had even slept in. This was enough to cheer her to some degree, and her optimism was working again. Everything would work out in the morning. All they needed was a good night's sleep. 

Apparently Soujiro already had an inn in mind because once again he led, walking several steps ahead of her at times. She kept close to him, but did not attach herself to his sleeve this time. She wanted to give him some distance. 

They were cutting through an alley when one of Kuri's sandals snapped a lace. She bent to retie it and Soujiro let one hand fall to tug on her sleeve. 

"Stay here," it was the soft tone, smooth as warm milk. 

Her eyes widened and her hands froze, unable to complete the knot to repair her shoe. She watched Soujiro saunter casually down the alley, his hand low over his sword hilt. 

"You can come out. I know you're here," his voice was not only pleasant and polite, but it seemed almost delighted, which chilled Kuri. 

There was a tense stretch of seconds, and then a tall, lean figure stepped out from the shadows. He wore a crimson gi which somehow seemed to fall wrong over his upper torso. His hakama were a slate gray, although in the moonlight they seemed almost silvery. His face was narrow and thin, yet fine featured, and his dark eyes were slitted. His hair was long, but it was kept high in a warrior's topknot. His fingers were also slender and fine boned, but they moved with a nimbleness, another sort of animal grace. His hand stood ready to draw his sword, in a guard stance of battou-jutsu. 

Soujiro spoke again, "I knew this would happen sooner or later. Maa, what do you have against me?"   
When he spoke, his voice was low and husky, although something seemed odd about it as well, "You took what was dearest to me away. I have sworn that I will take revenge to quiet his soul." 

Soujiro thought for a moment, "You're sure it was me?" his cheerfulness made Kuri's head swim. 

"Aa," he answered softly, "I was there." 

Soujiro scratched his head, "Then I suppose that this was inevitable." 

"Aa." 

"And you won't reconsider?" 

The strange man did not answer but simple fell into a different stance. 

"Come," he murmured. 

Soujiro shrugged and then Kuri saw his body suddenly tense. He was going to make the first move. He was gone in a second, his footfalls throwing up the loose gravel in the alley and making visible impacts in the ground. Then suddenly he wasn't on the ground any longer, but she caught his impact on a nearby wall. He was closer and closer to the other man, who had still not drawn his sword, then suddenly he struck, and there was a clash of steel on steel that glittered in the moonlight. There was another flash of silver and another counter, this one aimed low, which the strange man's long katana still managed to catch. Then Soujiro spun off to the left, and let himself slide to a stop in the gravel. 

"Hoki Iado Ryu," he spoke softly, "I learned a great deal about the style today. I had heard that the person after me was a master of the style, but I didn't understand what that meant until now. You're fast. You do your title credit, but I doubt you're fast enough. Shukuchi is faster than the speed of the gods. My Shukuchi has beaten Hiten Mitsurigi Ryu. I doubt your style will be fast enough to counter soon enough," he paused and tapped his foot on the ground as if testing it for the force of his footfalls, "Shall we go again?" 

Soujiro moved in a blur again, and soon, Kuri couldn't focus on him at all, just the whirl and clash and clatter of steel dancing in the moonlight. The two paid no attention to her, and soon she realized that the other man didn't even know she was there, because she was crouched in the shadows. 

She focused hard on the fight, so hard she almost forgot to breathe. She could only see Soujiro when he struck or when he stopped to make another comment, so she found herself studying his adversary. The tall, lean man seemed somehow familiar to her, although she knew that was impossible. There was no way she could know a samurai, one of Soujiro's enemies. She didn't know anyone in Kyoto, except for that lanky policeman, and this was obviously not him. But something stuck her as extremely familiar, something she couldn't quite place. It hounded her as she squatted in the dark, focused on the pair who still dueled in the gravel and dirt of the alley. 

Soujiro let himself stop again, and this time, he let his hand drop lower than usual, "This will decide it. I'm getting tired of playing with you. All you have are the same tricks over and over." 

And then he was gone in a blur, charging straight for the stranger, and the stranger turned his head suddenly towards the corner where Kuri crouched as if suddenly aware that someone was there. The full light of the moon bathed the face and Kuri suddenly knew who the figure was. 

At this point, Soujiro was so close to striking that she could see him again, katana naked in the moonlight as it sailed around to bite where the samurai had not drawn in defense. 

Before she knew what she was doing, she was standing in the moonlight, one thought pounding in her mind, "YAMATE! Yamate Yamate, Onegai!" her shrill cry broke off into a sob because even as she screamed she knew it was too late. 

But somehow, her cry reached him, and it shook him, knocking the Tenken out of his role as killer and bringing the ministering boy who was always worried about her welfare to the surface. He was completely distracted for one single moment, and suddenly, the long katana was up and aimed at his shoulder. Instantly, he recovered himself, fighting on instinct alone, and he brought his own katana up and threw the other sword back with a powerful thrust. But the katana had just been a feint, and he realized this as a small, slender hand followed the path of the katana bearing a sleek, deadly dagger. His katana was gone too far in it's arc. He could not bring it up again to defend, but he realized that all of the swordsman's defenses had dropped in an attempt to land the dagger home. Soujiro threw himself to the side and brought his katana up at the same time, raking a long deep cut around the swordsman's back and under his arm. But it was too late. The offense was not enough to drive off his attacker, and he had not thrown himself far enough to be out of the dagger's range. The swordsman pressed down, driving the dagger deep into his shoulder using all of his weight, and suddenly, the dagger snapped, and the hilt went spinning away into the alley. 

Soujrio fell back several steps to survey his opponent, and the opponent regarded him for only an instant before skittering off into the darkness to tend his own wound. Soujiro did not have the will to follow him. In fact, he barely had the will to stand. He was afraid the dagger had struck something vital, because he was bleeding profusely. He turned, and it seemed as if he were in slow motion. 

"Kuri?" he managed to ask, before the exertion became too much for him and he blacked out. 

Kuri raced to his side, not particularly worried about her own safety and her eyes widened when she saw the spreading bloodstain on his chest. She had no idea what to do. She had never been in a situation like this, but she knew this time she couldn't panic. She had to be strong or Soujiro's life would bleed out of him while she fretted. 

She knew she had to stop the bleeding, and the only way she knew how to do that was with her hands. Gingerly she pressed her hands onto his shoulder and then leaned all her weight into it. The blood was warm and wet on her hands, and this time, it was no someone else's, it was his. 

She could taste salty tears on her cheeks and she wanted to scream in frustration. She had to help him, but she didn't know how. She didn't know if she was doing the right thing even now. She might only be making it worse. She tilted her face up to see the moon, so that she might pray for guidance, when suddenly she saw a shadowy figure walk by the entrance of the alley. This was hope. This was her chance. 

"Help me! Help me please!" she cried as loudly as she could, hoping, praying that whoever stood at the entrance of the alley was a friend that would help them. 

The only person who answered her summons was a slender eleven-year-old boy.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Mixed Blessings: The Face Behind the Mas...

tearsandrain-10

Tears and Rain

Chapter 10 -- Mixed Blessings: The face behind the mask

By Gabi

Soujiro came to his senses slowly. At first he only knew there was a dull ringing in his ears and a brightness around him. He was also aware of a slow, throbbing in his shoulder that bothered him more and more as he drifted into consciousness. He moved his hand slightly and it brushed a warm, silky mass that he found soothing, so he left it to rest there as he experimentally opened his eyes.

He was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, and immediately, he tried to sit up in an attempt to identify his surroundings. It was at this point that he became fully aware of the throbbing in his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a soft hiss and then propped himself on his left shoulder. 

He found that he was lying on a strange futon in a strange room that was probably in an equally strange house. Then he noticed Kuri.

She was lying between his futon and another stretched across the straw mat. Her head was pillowed on the edge of his futon and one hand held tight to the fabric of his hakama. His hand rested lightly on the top of her head, nestled in her hair, which for once, was down. 

The image of her made his head swim and he pressed his shoulder hard into the mat to retain his grip on the present as he tried to remember exactly what had happened to get them into the current situation. The pain in his shoulder made him grimace, but he ignored it and concentrated on piecing together what he could remember.

Then he heard a clink of metal and it was as if a dam had broken inside his mind. He saw his opponent's sword glitter in the moonlight. He heard Kuri's scream. He felt the bite of the dagger and then the weakness of his legs. He felt all this in one split second, and then he snapped his head in the direction the sound had come from and attempted to put the pain of his shoulder out of his mind.

The source of the sound was a skinny, gray-haired, extremely unpleasant-looking old man. He wore a spotlessly clean yukata and was carrying a metal tray of some sort. The man scowled at him and Soujiro found himself in a very singular situation.

Thankfully, at that moment Kuri stirred under his hand and rolled over onto her stomach. She groggily pushed back and in an amusing imitation of an inch worm, she slowly managed to get into an upright position. She blinked sleepily at the man once before turning to blink sleepily at Soujiro. Then she blinked again. Soujiro was about to open his mouth when recognition flashed over her face and her eyes widened noticeably. She threw herself into his lap and clung to him as if there were no tomorrow. Soujiro's eyes bugged out as she impacted and he felt it in his shoulder. He fell backward helplessly onto the futon with Kuri sprawled halfway onto his lap and clinging to his bare chest. 

Kuri could barely contain her glee and made several happy sounds before turning joyously to the old man.

"Look Yoshida-sensei! He's awake, just like you said he'd be!"

The old man's expression did not change, but he did raise an eyebrow, "Kuri, I can see that he's awake. If you don't get off of him I'm afraid you're going to knock him unconscious again," he muttered dryly. 

Kuri jumped backward as if she had been shocked and a sheepish look covered her glee, to some extent. Still as Soujiro turned to look at her he could see the blissful relief in her eyes.

Soujiro cast a look at the crabby-looking old man and then turned his attention back to Kuri. He cleared his throat and sought a way out of his very singular position.

"Ano, Kuri-san . . . "

Kuri suddenly realized the source of his discomfort and sought immediately to rectify it with a stumbling and backward account of how they had come into these very singular circumstances. Yoshida added nothing to the story other than his scowl, which was not terribly reassuring.

"You've been out for three days. This is Yoshida-sensei's house. He fixed you up after . . . " she stumbled, " . . . after you got hurt. Yoshida-sensei is a doctor, but he's mostly retired. If Hisashi-kun hadn't come along that night, I don't know what I would have done," the worry in her voice was apparent and she looked as if she were going to plough into some related subject, but the old man interceded.

"Take a breath, Kuri," he warned, "Or you may just cause your lungs to collapse from talking too much."

Kuri's eyes widened and she shut her mouth obediently.

Soujiro absorbed Kuri's disjointed narrative as best as he could. As he thought about the ramifications that the fight had he reached automatically for his katana, but his hand curled around nothing but thin air.

He was unsettled but rationalized that the doctor had probably put his sword away while he had bandaged him. It could only hinder him, after all. Still, a niggling doubt plagued him and his hand trembled slightly, because he didn't like not being in arm's length of his blade. It made him feel vulnerable, and this was a feeling he was altogether not used to.

"Kuri-san," his voice was the same soft tenor she was familiar with, yet there seemed to be a note of control in it, "Where's my sword?"

Kuri's face drained of color as she suddenly seemed to remember something important, "Shimatta! I completely forgot!" She jumped up before Soujiro could say anything else and said resolutely, "I'm going to go get it. I'll be right back."

Soujiro opened his mouth to ask her where she was going, but she dashed out too quickly. He was left staring at the crabby old man. After a moment, the old man spoke.

"She hasn't left your side for a moment for three days, not even to eat."

Soujiro was not sure how to respond to that statement, but as it turned out, he wasn't expected to, because the old man continued.

"And now she's run off wearing only a yukata to wherever she's stowed your sword. Tell me, ronin, where did you get her and how did you instill such abject devotion in her?"

This time the man was silent and Soujiro had trouble deciding if the question was rhetorical and he was simply supposed to contemplate it in silence, or if he was actually expected to respond. After several strained minutes, Soujiro decided it was the latter.

And yet, Soujiro had difficulty in talking about how he had found Kuri, completely barring the awkwardness of the situation. It was as if he didn't want to remember her as she had been, at the inn, because it warned of what she might become again if she lost his protection. The guilt washed over him as he realized how close he had put her to loosing that protection and he swallowed hard before he spoke.

"I found her. She had no place to go and no one to stay with so I took her along with me."

The old man's eyes glittered, "Is that right?"

Soujiro mastered his emotions once more and completely calmed himself. It seemed as if he'd been doing that a lot recently. When he spoke again his voice was soft and smooth, yet also detached.

"Yes."

"And she means nothing more to you? She's just your ward."

Soujiro looked at the man blankly and if it had been visible, the dull sheen of his emotional shield would have glowed. Still he chose his words carefully, "Has she lead you to believe anything different?"

The old man studied the metal tray in his hands, "No, but I wondered. After I assured her that I'd treat you even if you were a ronin, she was quite free with information. I believe I must have heard every story about what a gallant protector you are," his voice was dry, "and a few I fear she must have made up, considering your current sad state."

Soujiro sweatdropped, "Hai, Yoshida-sensei."

He looked at the boy sharply. "Don't you smile and patronize me boy. Don't you even think that I don't know exactly what you are despite what the girl may say. Let me tell you this right now, if it hadn't been for that girl pleading and crying and covered in _your_ blood, I would have never let you into this house, _hitokiri,_" he spat out the last word as it was obviously distasteful to him.

Beneath the wall, Soujiro quivered, but outwardly, he benignly smiled. "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you. Kuri and I will leave as soon as she gets back."

The old man stared at him hard before finally speaking, "If you cared about her, perhaps you would consider leaving her here."

Soujiro's expression didn't waver although inside, his mind seemed to swirl in an emotional gambit. At first he was totally incredulous. Leaving Kuri behind was an absolutely ridiculous idea. He'd have to be an idiot. Then he attempted to rationalize this feeling and found he had great difficulty doing so. After all, she was only spare baggage for him. She was only a hindrance on his journey. When he had agreed to let her come with him it had only been temporary. It had only been until he found a place for her to stay, and now he was being offered a safe haven for his baggage. It was a long time before he spoke.

"She wouldn't stay. She wouldn't like it here," he had dropped his pretenses, although the smile gleamed like a silver shield. Soujiro was playing the defensive, although he was still not sure what he was defending.

The old eyes gleamed again and Soujiro noted they were crisp, like ice, yet jet black. They were sharp edged eyes, like obsidian, "You mean you think she won't be happy unless she has you to fawn over every day, after you've admitted that you don't especially care for her. What makes you feel that you're so special?" his brow wrinkled and he seemed all at once extremely bitter, "You damn arrogant bastard. I know your type. You don't care a second for a girl when she's with you and fawning on you. You only care when she stops giving you attention. Well, let me tell you something, ronin. Perhaps she's less attached to you that you think. Why don't you wait and see and maybe not think about yourself for once. Watch what she wants and see what she needs."

Soujiro was silent once more and found he could do nothing but smile. It was a wide, bright smile. It was a pleasant smile. It was a false wall of defense. Thankfully, he didn't have to labor under the old man's intense gaze for very long because Kuri chose that moment to breeze back into the room looking relatively unruffled and carrying a dirty, smelly object that Soujiro haltingly identified as his katana. Kuri looked untroubled as she grinned proudly.

"It was right where I buried it. No one had touched it at all."

Soujiro looked at the sword blankly, "You buried it?"

Kuri suddenly realized that her brilliant idea had perhaps not been a brilliant idea and tried to explain, "When Hisashi-kun found us in the alley, he knew what to do right away. He helped me stop your bleeding and said he was going to go get Yoshida-sensei to help but when he noticed your sword he said to hide it because he didn't think Yoshida-sensei would help you if he saw it," she blushed and averted her eyes, "Yoshida-sensei doesn't like men with swords."

The old man said nothing, but his mouth was set in a firm line.

Kuri continued, "So while Hisashi-kun ran off to fetch him I found a big pile of trash and dirt and buried your sword under it. I was afraid if I didn't then Yoshida-sensei wouldn't help you and . . . and . . . " her voice trembled uncontrollably and she bent her head and brushed her eyes with the back of her hand before she finished, " . . . and you'd die. I'm sorry," she seemed to get control of herself again, "I'll clean it for you if you show me how."

{Gabi: Kuri wants her hands on Souchan's sword! Whooooo!}  
{Kuri: O_O GABI WA HENTAI!!!}

The old man laughed dryly before speaking, "You'll most likely kill yourself if you try and clean it. You don't know how to handle it. Leave the cleaning to him, he'll know what to do."

Soujiro nodded. It wouldn't be that much trouble to clean the sword, and Kuri had obviously been very worried. _See?_ the darker part of his mind seemed quite satisfied. His thoughts almost purred, _The old man is wrong. She needs you._

"But I need to do something to make up for it!" she insisted. She bit a curled index finger lightly as she contemplated. Suddenly she squealed, "I know!" and dashed off again, leaving Soujiro alone in the old man's presence once more.

Soujiro let no sign of discomfort slip from him as he faced the scowling codger. Still, he hoped that Kuri would come back quickly if for no other reason than to quickly assure himself that the old doctor's assertions were wrong. Soujiro was to be disappointed though for the next form that came sauntering into the room was not that of the hyperkinetic bunny girl, but rather a large, overfed cat. The cat casually trotted over to Soujiro's futon and sniffed his toes very carefully. After having apparently determining that he was not a threat, the cat casually hopped into Soujiro's lap and flopped over. The black thundercloud continued to hover above the doctor's head as he watched and he looked as if he were about to say something when a boyish voice cried out from the room next door.

"Neko-chan! Neko-chan? Where did you go?"

This call was followed by a shuffling in the other room and then a young lad of around twelve years popped his head around the corner, apparently in quest of the feline. The boy was handsome, and slender too, Soujiro noted as the boy came into the room. He had dark eyes and black hair that was long in front and fell into his eyes. Soujiro decided that this had to be the fabled Hisashi that Kuri had mentioned several times in her narrative. In accordance with good manners, Soujiro bowed to the lad as best he could with his bandaged shoulder and an overweight cat in his lap.

"You must be Hisashi-kun. I've heard that you helped save my life. Arigatou Gozaimashita."

The boy blushed at the recognition, "Hai. Doitaimashita," he was bashful for a moment, then he seemed to gain courage, "I see you've met Neko-chan."

Soujiro laughed because that seemed to be the thing he was expected to do and then he answered, "Yes, she has been very friendly."

"She likes everybody," grumped the old man and the boy grinned at him.

"Ne, Yoshida-sensei, have you had your prunes today?"

The old man rolled his eyes and quirked his voice into a falsetto to mock the boy's, "Ne, Hisashi-san, have you done your lessons today?"

The boy's grin widened and he scratched the back of his head. Soujiro noted that while the old man's expression didn't change much from the sour grimace while he spoke to the boy, his eyes softened somewhat. The boy did not seem perturbed by the cranky expression on the old man's face at all. Perhaps this was normal for them and the doctor was always this pleasant. He could be using the same sort of emotional shield that Soujiro himself used, although one of a far less approachable nature. Still, no matter how he might try to write off the old man's behavior as typical, he couldn't help but note the particular vehemence the man had spoken to him with. The doctor seemed to hate swordsmen particularly and with an intensity that seemed unnatural. He had after all projected his own opinions of Soujiro's relationship with Kuri onto the situation with no experience of how they behaved together other than Kuri's accounts, which Soujiro suspected were just as disjointed as the one she had blurted out to him earlier. Soujiro found himself wondering if the old man had any experience in affairs involving women and swordsmen. However, he was not allowed to contemplate this train of thought for long because Kuri chose that moment to announce her presence again.

She looked extremely pleased with herself and has she approached hurriedly Soujiro noticed that her two hands were cupped in front of her. When she got to his futon, she knelt and held out her hands for his examination. In the cup her palms formed were five round, dark red cherries.

"Arigato, Kuri-san," he smiled at her and she seemed to warm under his gaze. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, "Kuri-san, did you pick these cherries from someone else's tree?"

Kuri blushed. Obviously he was interested in avoiding another sukiyaki incident, especially in his condition. Indignantly she stated, "These are from the tree in the yard. Hisashi-kun said I could take them as a present for you."

Soujiro raised his right arm slightly, "Maa maa Kuri, don't get worked up." He nodded to the boy, "Arigatou, Hisashi-kun."

The boy nodded pleasantly, but the old man cut in again.

"Very polite of you to offer him fruit from my tree."

"Old man," the boy laughed, "If I didn't water it, it would have died long ago. The tree is as much yours as Neko-chan is mine."

The cat let out a throaty yowl as if in agreement and rolled over onto her back, still sprawled across Soujiro's lap.

As if sensing a shift in the mood, the boy spoke again.

"Yoshida-sensei, I have something to show you in the dispensary."

"What is it?" the old goat snapped.

The boy sweatdropped, "I can't tell you. You have to see it."

He cast a meaningful glance at Kuri, and although she was confused by it for a moment, she picked up on it soon enough and nodded emphatically.

"Oh yes, I saw it as I came in. You ought to go and see it. Boy, it was something."

Soujiro sweatdropped and filed it away for future reference that Kuri wasn't a very convincing liar.

The old man looked at Kuri and the boy skeptically before grumbling, "I guess I had better go see this amazing wonder."

The boy herded the old man out, and as he left, he cast a backward glance at Kuri and Soujiro was not surprised to see him wink at her. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up. As if on cue, the cat stretched and rolled out of Soujiro's lap and then followed them out.

As soon as the two of them were out of earshot, Soujiro expected Kuri to bombard him with personal commentary, but she stayed strangely silent, as if suddenly shy. Soujiro was disturbed by this shyness. It was as if she didn't know him. Finally he spoke.

"Kuri, I'm sorry that you had to go through that," as hard as he tried to control his voice he was afraid that a tiny tremor had slipped out.

She shook her head, "I'm glad I was there. At least then I could try to help you. If I hadn't been there . . ." she looked away.

"Oh, Kuri," was all he could say, and as she looked back at him she found his expression was not simply benign and complacent, but soft and vulnerable. She couldn't hold back her tears any longer, and although he had made no motion of invitation, she leaned against his bare chest and put both of her hands over her face.

Soujiro was surprised by her movement, but by no means displeased, because it reinforced the idea that she needed _him_. He felt her tears where her face pressed against his chest and felt her silently shake. Gently, he drew her closer, into a natural embrace. Her hair spilled over her shoulders. It was still loose and it felt nice against his chest. As he glanced down at her form, seemingly lost in the yukata that was simply too large for her, he couldn't help but note how childlike she looked. She continued to cry, trembling in his safe embrace, and Soujiro found himself rocking her ever-so-slightly, and murmuring soft words of reassurance. He had survived after all. Nothing had changed. Her fears were groundless.

"It's over now," he murmured consolingly.

Her voice was soft when it came, "But it's not, is it? It's not over until one of you is dead. That's what you said in the alley."

Soujiro avoided the question and instead answered it with one of his own, "Why did you scream?"

She was silent, and she simply pressed against his chest.

Soujiro wondered if she had forgotten and the idea disturbed him so much that he repeated himself, "You screamed for me to stop. Why?"

"All at once I knew who you were fighting, and I didn't want you to hurt them," her voice was tiny, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"You knew who I was fighting?" he was incredulous.

He felt her nod against him and he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Who was it then?"

She was silent for several minutes before she finally spoke.

"It was a woman named Toyotomi Noriko."

* 

Bwahahaha! What a way to end a chapter ^_^ By the way, Tears and Rain will be wrapping up in three more chapters ^_^


	11. One Fine Day: Even the Best Times Become...

tearsandrain-11

Tears and Rain

Chapter Eleven -- One Fine Day: Even The Best Times Become Memories

By Gabi

Soujiro was momentarily at a complete loss. He had never for once considered that Kuri could be wrapped up in this mess. In fact, all the information he had thus far gathered pointed as far away from that direction as possible. The woman who wanted him dead was a fine, upstanding, well-off woman of the upper class. This woman had been raised as a boy and trained as a samurai, but when the Tokagawa dynasty had ended, she had married a peaceful politician and they had had two beautiful daughters. Then, five years ago, on an errand for Shishio, Soujiro had taken the life of her pacifist husband while she and her daughters vacationed on the seashore. He had thought nothing of it at the time and had not recalled it at all until one of the Kyoto informants had repeated the name two or three times. It was strange, he had thought at the time, that of all the men he had killed, the only one he was facing repercussions for was a lowly governmental official. Now with Kuri's new admission, his mind hastily jumped to the conclusion that there was more binding him to Toyotomi Noriko than he had previously thought.

He loosened his hold on her and turned her so he could see her face, "How did you know?"

Kuri trembled at this sudden cross-examination and was uncomfortable under his blank smile. She felt as if she had betrayed him. Briefly she wondered what would have happened if she had told him about Noriko immediately after meeting her. Perhaps then he wouldn't have been hurt. She shook her head for no one's benefit but her own and forced the tears back.

Soujiro took her head shake as a refusal and he spoke again, "Onegai, Kuri-san. It's important."

At this prompting the words tumbled out one after another. Kuri's narrative was once again disjointed, but once again, Soujiro managed to make sense of it. More than any of the actual facts of the matter, the most pressing thing Soujiro gleaned from her babbling was her pure and worrisome affection for the woman who had attempted to kill him. After she had finished explaining she grew silent and Soujiro did not expect her to add anything more, but quietly, she spoke again.

"I don't know why Noriko-san is trying to kill you Soujiro-kun, but I know that she's a very good person and that she has two wonderful little daughters that need her to take care of them. Growing up without a mother is horrible," she trailed off into a whisper, and as she looked at him, she seemed to regain strength, "And I know that you're a very good person. You can't kill her."

Soujiro was silent and simply watched her.

Taking his noncommittal gesture as just that, she turned her face away from him and pressed against his chest again as she sobbed, "Please Soujiro, you can't kill her. Please. _Please_."

Soujiro swallowed. He couldn't stand this. She was begging like it was her own life on the line. He sighed. If she cared for the woman this much, there was nothing else for it. She did have a point after all. It was horrible to grow up without a mother.

"All right, Kuri. I won't kill her."

Kuri tore away from him and looked at him hard in an attempt to determine if she'd heard him correctly. He repeated himself and such a look of relief passed over her that she might have been at her own acquittal. 

"Swear you won't, Soujiro-kun. Swear!" her voice still trembled, but the tears seemed to have cleared, "Swear on -- oh, I don't know, but you have to swear."

He nodded and after thinking a moment, he took her hand in both his hands and bent forward, cursing silently as he pulled the muscles in his bandaged shoulder. He bowed until she felt his warm forehead press against her open palm and then she heard him softly speak, "I swear that I won't kill her."

She breathed a sigh of relief as he straightened and looked at her again, "I won't kill her, but she will always hunt me and I can't put you in that kind of danger," his voice was so soft she could barely discern the words. He was about to go on, but she interrupted him.

"Wait, Soujiro-kun, why don't you try talking to her, like I talked to you? You can explain to her that you don't want to kill her. I don't know," her voice was pleading, "Maybe she'll listen."

Soujiro suddenly recalled a similar encounter in his past and the situation painted itself in the vivid colors of memory. He had once learned the hardest lesson of his life due to a soft voice and a non-killing sword. Perhaps he too could perform a miracle with them. Like the red-haired wanderer, his happiness was also at stake. He did not have all he needed yet. He possessed the soft voice but he lacked the non-killing sword, and he was not naïve enough to think that he could survive without a proper blade. What he needed was a substitute sword.

"Hai, Kuri-san," he said softly, and with such a look on his face that Kuri knew that he honestly hoped so.

"You can go and talk to her. I'm sure everything will be all right then," she sounded as if she were desperately trying to convince herself. She suddenly jumped up and ran across the room to rummage in some linen. When she came back, she was carrying a little slip of paper, "This is Noriko-san's address. She gave it to me so I could find her if I needed her, only I forgot to tell her that I couldn't read," her voice softened, "Maybe it will help after all."

Soujiro took the slip of paper from her and studied it as if it contained some great secret. Then he nodded and spoke.

"Kuri-san, we need to go on a shopping errand."

*

Kuri had been quite flustered when Soujiro had announced his intention to go shopping. At first she had forbidden it, citing his less than recovered state, but after he had insisted, she had fluttered on to more practical problems. For instance, what were they going to wear? 

Both Soujiro's gi and his shirt had suffered such deep cuts to them that they were currently unsuitable to wear in public. They also had large bloodstains on them, which also was a good reason for them to be kept from the public view. Kuri's gi and hakama had suffered much the same predicament sans the rents. They were currently being laundered in the back yard by Hisashi. This left Soujiro nothing to wear but his hakama and Kuri nothing to wear but her borrowed yukata, which she certainly couldn't wear in public. Hisashi immediately volunteered his own spare gi so that Soujiro could at least be dressed properly. He was about to volunteer some more of his clothing to Kuri when Yoshida stopped him.

"She's gone about too long in ragged boy's clothes. She might as well wear something that fits her if she's going to go around borrowing clothes," the old man had grumped and then he had fetched an intricately carved wooden box which he laid carefully onto Kuri's futon.

She finally moved to open it when Yoshida grunted in impatience. Soujiro watched the old man closely as she gently set the lid off of the box and then squealed at what she found there.

"Is this for me? Really? Can I wear it? You're so wonderful!" she cried all at once and then hugged the old man in happiness. The old man was quite at al loss, but Soujiro noted that he seemed to be happy, although it only showed around the corners of his mouth.

Inside the box was a beautifully embroidered kimono of the deepest crimson. It looked extremely expensive and very well kept. Soujiro could tell that it had never been worn for the creases were so precise and the color so vibrant that he believed it had been rarely even taken out of its beautiful prison. Belatedly the significance of the color registered and Soujiro drew in his breath. For some reason, in the dusty far reaches of his closet, the crotchety old bachelor doctor had a very expensive, very well tended wedding kimono that had never been worn. Soujiro looked at him hard, but the old man betrayed no emotion other than crabbiness as he watched the girl delicately finger the robes. The unpleasant man remained an intriguing enigma. Kuri broke into his thoughts again by tugging on his sleeve.

"Yoshida-sensei's going to teach me how to put it on. You have to come and watch."

The color drained from his face and even the smile flickered, "Nan desu ka?" 

"The knots and bows are all so complicated I'm never going to remember them on my own. You're good at things like that. You have to watch so that if I ever get another kimono you can help me remember how to tie the knots right," she explained so seriously and naively that he had to smile inwardly, however the grumpy old man would have nothing of it.

"Come on, girl," he said, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off despite her protests, "There are some things you need to learn to do by yourself."

While Yoshida instructed Kuri in the art of tying kimono, Soujiro donned Hisashi's spare gi. It was the same fine quality that his own gi had originally been when new, however it lacked the threadbare travel stained quality that were the trademarks of a ronin's gi. In the borrowed gi, Soujiro had to admit, he did look like a young boy of the upper classes. It was strange, Hisashi was almost ten years younger than he was, but they could wear the same gi comfortably. Yet even though they might look to be of similar background, time and experience had differentiated them forever.

After putting on the gi, Soujiro then took a clean oiled rag and divested the sword of all the little bits of rubbish it had acquired during its three day stay under a pile of garbage. Once he had thoroughly polished it, he tucked it back into his belt. With his sword back close at hand, Soujiro felt much more relaxed and had no trouble inquiring where his money pouch had gotten to. Hisashi cheerfully fetched it and Soujiro tucked the pouch and the address into his gi. 

As Kuri was still not ready, he requested a pen and paper and then wrote a short letter which he put in an envelope with only a name scrawled across it. This he also tucked into his gi. He had just returned the pen and paper and was watching Hisahi do the laundry in the backyard when Kuri finally appeared.

She came forward slowly, and Soujiro could hear the wood on wood clacks of her sandals on the porch floorboards. Soujiro tried to keep his eyes focused on her feet in an attempt to remain undistracted, but inexorably they traveled up, despite his best defenses. The kimono was beautiful, an affair of embroidered silk and cotton underlay. Its main color was a deep crimson and embroidered into it were tiny figures in gold and pale green. There were small flowers and broad leaves and a lovely curling vine. The obi was primarily gold, but it had an overlay of the pale green to give it contrast. All in all, it was a splendid garment, but for once, Soujiro was not particularly observant concerning the trappings. 

She was small, but not a waif any longer. Her eyes were averted, staring at the ground, and even in the shade of the porch overhang he could see the blush that colored her cheeks. Her skin was milky in contrast with the dark crimson of the kimono and she had clasped her hands in front of her for want of something better to do with them. Her hands were so delicate. She was so fragile, yet even as he watched her he knew it was not the delicacy of a girl-child. She was in transition. She was unsure of her place, just as he was, but she was certainly not a child playing dress up.

His eyes softened inadvertently as she took another step forward and he captured her image forever in his memory. This is how she should be: shy, demure, taking a step off her porch on a beautiful summer's day. It was possible for him to forget completely all they had gone through, all they had come through together and to see her as a beautiful, fragile china doll.

Then she smiled at him and hopped from foot to foot as best as she could in the unfamiliar wooden sandals.

"How do I look?" she asked excitedly and he wanted desperately to grab her up, throw her over his shoulder and take her off to someplace where no one would bother them for a long, long time. This was Kuri the child. This was Kuri the little thief. This was Kuri the conspirator and confidant. This was Kuri the woman-girl who belonged to him in every bouncing step she took and every silly caper she cut and every vibrant mood she swung through. He could not control the exhalation of relief as he answered.

"Like yourself."

She was puzzled, "Nani? Don't you like it?"

Immediately the blank smile was up again, "You look very pretty, Kuri-san. Did you learn how to tie the belts and bows properly?"

She was immediately distracted by his question and she made a little face, "It's almost more trouble than it worth. Yoshida-sensei taught me some rhymes to help me remember them, and I'm pretty sure I could do it again, although tying the ones in back are hard if you have to do it by yourself. And here I thought the laces on the hakama were hard," she grimaced.

Soujiro nodded politely and Yoshida grumbled something unintelligible. There was a sploosh as Hisashi dumped some more lye into his laundry tub and then pushed Kuri's rumpled, bloodstained hakama into the water.

"Will you two be back for lunch?" asked the boy as he scrubbed with a scouring cloth, "I need to know how much to make."

"Hai, hai," responded Kuri without waiting for Soujiro's answer. 

Soujiro nodded in agreement, "Our errands shouldn't take us very long."

"I'll see you all at lunch then," he grinned, "You'd better hurry back though, Yoshida-sensei has a bigger appetite than you'd expect. He's always swiping dumplings from my plate."

"I believe that's the other way around you little scamp, only I'm to genteel to make an issue out of it," grumped the old man.

The boy laughed and retorted, "You're so genteel you can't do your own laundry."

While they were throwing insults back and forth at each other, Soujiro caught Kuri's arm and led her off before they could be caught by any further hindrances or awkward pauses.

Once on the streets, Soujiro knew more or less exactly where he wanted to go, although he had to moderate his speed so that Kuri could keep up in her geta and kimono. They ended up strolling leisurely along, although she kept a firm grip on his borrowed gi. He surmised that she was still not comfortable in the immense city, and he let his own hand stray up to loosely clasp her arm.

Eventually, Soujiro led them off the beaten path and to a small store without even a signboard outside to denote its mercantile status. Still, he barged into the shop with few qualms about what he'd find there. The shop was small and dimly lit, and there was only one rather old man at the counter. He seemed to recognize Soujiro immediately.

"Ah, Tenken, it's been a while since I saw you last. I take it you're here on business. What can I do for you?"

"I need your finest iaitou."

The old man looked at him curiously, "Iaitou? Boy, you could go to any store in town and get one of those. They're unsharpened, you know that. There's no law about carrying a sword that has no blade."

Soujiro scratched the back of his head absently, "I know I could get one anywhere, but I need the highest quality iaitou _you_ have. I need something I can bet my life on against an excellently balanced nihontou. I don't need a toy."

The old man shrugged, "Well, it's your money, although I personally think you've gone a bit batty if you expect to defend against a nihontou with an iaitou. Nevertheless, I do have something that might interest you."

He ducked into the back room and Soujiro could hear him rummaging around. Kuri stayed close behind him, as if she were afraid there were some monster in the shop waiting to hop out from behind a corner and grab her. After a time, the old man returned and placed a short sword with a beautiful hilt on the counter. 

"You know, it's said that this once belonged to Okita Souji," intoned the old man mysteriously.

The boy laughed, "Old man, you would have me believe that everything in this shop once belonged to Okita Souji."

The old man was indignant, "Have you ever known me to sell you anything that wasn't worth what it cost? You can see for yourself that this iaitou is high quality, and you did ask for them best, but if you're not interested . . . "

Soujiro shook his head, "I didn't say that, old man. It's fitting that I take another of Okita-san's swords with me to this fight, although hopefully I'll keep this one in better repair."

The old man put his hands on his hips, "You know boy, you're lucky that I managed to find a swordsmith who could forge another blade for that handle you brought me, although how you managed to break the blade of the Kikuichi Norimune I'll never know."

Soujiro let one hand drop over the hilt of his katana protectively and his eyes grew distant, "I had help."

"Well, yes, I assumed so. In any case, at least you'll have a matching set now," he said, sheathing the iaitou.

Soujiro nodded and Kuri was distressed to see him hand over the better part of the money in the pouch. The old man passed him the sheathed, edgeless short sword and he tucked it into his belt. Kuri cringed. If he hadn't been noticeable before when he only carried one sword, he was certainly noticeable now. Kuri had the feeling they were going to have more scuffles with the police over his swords soon enough.

Kuri had thought their shopping excursion over when they'd left the small shop, but Soujiro led them on to a clothing shop. Kuri immediately realized that he was going to have to buy a new gi and shirt because of the damage they'd sustained in his previous fight. Her clothes would come clean with a few spirited washings. His were a little more difficult to repair.

The shop they stopped at was a fine expensive one, and while Soujiro debated the price of a new gi with the owner, Kuri couldn't help but gaze longingly at a display of ribbons. They looked foreign, and the strange crenellated fabric was so tempting to touch that she hand to ball her hands into fists to keep herself from fingering the fabric. 

Suddenly, she was startled by a voice directly behind her.

"And one of those too."

"Which one?" inquired the shopkeeper pleasantly.

"The light green one, there, near the top."

Kuri whirled around and found herself nose to nose with her smiling ronin. Immediately, he took a step back but he didn't seemed to be effected by her confused stare at all.

"But Soujiro-kun! We don't have money to waste on ribbons!" she protested in a manner that was not particularly convincing.

His eyebrows arched over his indigo eyes, and he said simply, "The ribbon goes with your eyes." 

At Soujiro's request, the clerk handed over the ribbon before wrapping the rest of the purchase in brown paper. Soujiro didn't ask before gathering up Kuri's loose hair and deftly tying the ribbon around it. As soon as he was done, she bent and peered into a small mirror on the counter. She was grinning happily when she looked up.

"See? I told you you were good at things like that!"

With a brown paper package under one arm and Kuri attached to the other, Soujiro headed to the river, or rather to a graceful bridge over the river. He left Kuri and the package there while he dashed off to perform one other errand he'd forgotten, he claimed. He was gone before Kuri could protest, so she found she had nothing else to do but stand on the bridge and peer into the serene blue water. 

When Soujiro finally returned, she couldn't help but blurt out, "It's all so wonderful!"

Soujiro was confused by her sudden display of exuberance, "Nani? What's wonderful?"

"Everything! Being with you, being in the city, being alive!"

He laid a hand reproachfully on her back as she leaned over the railing to study the blue on blue of the sky and water, "Kuri, everything isn't always wonderful, you know that."

She shook her head and refused to acknowledge it, "But that's the past. I don't care about the past at all," she cast a sidelong glance at him before returning her attention to the water, "I care about the future, and the future is always beautiful."

"Always?"

"Do you know what's going to happen?" she demanded.

He was forced to shake his head.

"Then how do you know it's not beautiful?"

He laughed lightly at her logic, "I guess you're right. The future is always beautiful, no matter what happens."

*

After lunch, Soujiro spent the majority of the evening learning the balance of his new sword. He pointedly ignored the angry glares Yoshida gave him and concentrated on learning the idiosyncrasies of the blade that was not a blade.

Kuri had shed the kimono immediately on returning home and was now wearing her borrowed yukata and happily digging in the dirt in the garden with Hisashi. Their clothing had been completely laundered by the time they had arrive home, and now Kuri's gi and hakama along with Soujiro's damaged gi were hanging over the banister railing on the porch as they dried. Hisashi had counted Soujiro's undershirt as a complete loss, and when they had come back, Soujiro had given him leave to throw it away. Hisashi claimed that the gi could still be salvaged, although the large cut over the right shoulder made Soujiro quite skeptical.

Kuri had pried into the paper package almost immediately when they had arrived back. She had been so horrified by the pale peach color of Soujiro's new gi that she had demanded he take it back and exchange it for a different color immediately. Soujiro had sweatdropped as he had explained that this was the only color gi that they had had and he hadn't thought too much about it when he had bought it. It was just a gi after all. She had protested that the new gi wouldn't match his hakama at all, and that "Soujiro-kun just isn't Soujiro-kun if he's not wearing blue!" Well, there hadn't been anything she could do about it anyway. They didn't have money enough to buy another gi and they couldn't return the new peach one. Kuri had been quite in a tilly until Hisashi had distracted her with garden work.

She seemed to be enjoying that to a great degree. She liked playing in the dirt, Soujiro realized, and she was good at gardening. He reflected that this was likely due to the fact that she'd been raised on a farm. She'd also grown quite close to Hisashi in the time that they had stayed. She seemed quite at ease prattling along with him about turnips or yelling at Yoshida for a snide comment. She seemed at home. Of course, Soujiro noted this all absently, as he counted kata in the backyard.

As evening drew to a close and the fireflies came out, Kuri secreted herself away in her room, claiming that she wanted to go to bed early so she'd have a good night's rest. Soujiro continued to practice a long while in the moonlight, reflecting over the events of the previous day and of the previous months. His shoulder had gotten a good deal better, and it no longer bothered him even when he taxed it, although he noted that his sword arm still moved slower and would likely continue to move slow until the wound had completely healed.

Sometime shortly after midnight, soft gray storm clouds rolled in and Soujiro was gently washed by a soft pattering rain. He sheathed both his swords and stood in the rain for a while, simply thinking, then he crept silently into the house. His things were in a neat bundle where he'd left them, and he swiftly shed the wet borrowed gi for the dry peach colored gi. He folded the borrowed gi neatly and left it in front of Hisashi's door, then he stole quietly back to his room to gather the remainder of his belongings. He packed them silently away into a small brown sack and slung it over his shoulder. 

Then he found he could go no further. He had wanted to leave without seeing her again and keep the image of her leaning over the railing discussing the nature of the past and future with him as his eternal picture, but he found he couldn't. He had to see her one last time.

He crept up to her door quietly and he only peeped in when he had assured himself of her slow, regular breathing. She was all bundled up under a blanket and her left foot was sticking out from under the covers. The moonlight bathed her and made her seem silver and ethereal, as if she were already a memory. She stirred slightly and snuggled closer to something she held tight in her arms and as Soujiro studied it closer, he realized it was his gi. The moonlight was bright and Soujrio could pick out all the details of his gi, even the line of crooked stitches on the right shoulder. Her fingertips were covered with little pinpricks and Soujiro could see the ball of floss she'd used to mend it with near her foot. Her last act of care for him touched him so much that he wanted to gently take the gi from her arms and put it on. That way she'd at least know that a piece of her went with him, but he knew that if he ventured into the room that she would surely wake up and then he couldn't leave. And he had to leave. He had to leave.

So he didn't creep close to her and he didn't retrieve his gi which she had so carefully stitched. 

He simply whispered "Sayonara, I know your future will be beautiful," 

And as his words melted into the soft splashings of the rain on the window covering, Soujiro turned and walked away.


	12. The Ties That Bind: Kuri's Decision and ...

tearsandrain-12

Tears and Rain

Chapter Twelve -- _The Ties that Bind: Kuri's decision and Soujiro's choice_

By Gabi

The rain was still falling lightly when Kuri woke up, and its steady drum on the roof was reassuring. She rolled out of bed and gathered Soujiro's newly repaired blue gi in her hands just in time for someone to rap lightly at the door. 

Intent on giving the gi to Soujiro herself with proper pomp and circumstance, and not being discovered like a thief in her room, she hastily hid the gi behind her back as the door slid open to reveal a somewhat harried Hisashi.

Relieved, she pulled the gi back in front of her as he spoke.

"I'm glad you're awake. It's time for lunch," he didn't look at her, but instead focused on the ground.

Her eyes widened, "Honto? I don't think I've ever slept this late before. Why didn't someone wake me up? I've missed half the day."

Hisashi still refused to meet her eyes and found something very interesting in her mussed bedclothes to devote his attention to, "Yoshida-sensei said it was better to let you sleep."

Kuri rolled her eyes, "He would, that old goat, but why didn't Soujiro-kun come and wake me up? I thought we'd have a lot to do today. Is he still practicing? Oh wait, he can't be practicing. It's raining," she observed to herself.

Hisashi didn't answer her but instead made a vague remark about lunch. Kuri began to feel very uneasy about his inability to look her in the face and asked another question.

"What's everyone up to today?"

The boy didn't answer for a moment then said, "I've been studying and Yoshida-sensei's been putting some of his books in order."

She laughed nervously, "What's Soujiro-kun doing? I'm sure he's driving Yoshida-sensei crazy if he's practicing in the house." 

The boy didn't answer her and she felt compelled to press him, her voice rising oddly in pitch, "What's he doing, Hisashi-kun?"

Hisashi finally looked at her and it was such a look of compassion and pity that her stomach flopped over in fear. She trembled and somewhere, a voice of insecurity inside of her supplied a reason, but she couldn't accept it. She couldn't even think about it, so she brushed past Hisashi in a flurry of panic and dashed into the main room, where she knew she would find Soujiro absently counting kata.

Only Yoshida sat in the room, shuffling through some papers. She turned on her heel and was about to dash off to investigate other areas of the house when Yoshida spoke, confirming her worst fears in only two words.

"He left."

She didn't turn to him, but simply stopped stock-still. When she spoke it was in a light tone that was an obvious attempt to cover her growing dread, "Where did he go?"

"I don't know. He left in the middle of the night."

Her falsely cheerful tone trembled, "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"He took all of his things when he left," Yoshida observed flatly, apparently quite interested in his papers. 

Kuri turned on her heel, disbelieving, "No!" she cried.

He finally looked up, "Yes, he did."

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. That couldn't be true. She would go to his room and see for herself that it wasn't true. She moved before Yoshida could call her back, and her socked feet beat a hasty rhythm as she raced down the hall to the spare room the doctor had given Soujiro use of.

She blustered into the room and then scanned the room hastily for any sign that the boy-ronin was still a resident. There were none. His clothes were gone. The bed was neatly made. He hadn't slept in it. His money pouch was gone. His katana was gone. Everything that she could readily identify as his was gone. The room seemed sterile and terribly lonely.

Suddenly there was a sound and Kuri whirled hopefully around only to find Hisashi standing in the doorway, watching her concernedly.

"It's all some joke, isn't it? It's all a prank just to scare me," she begged, "Tell me I'm right. Soujiro-kun just went out somewhere and you hid all his things to scare me. He's taking a bath. That's why his clothes aren't here, right? Right?"

After a moment, he sadly shook his head, "I wish I could tell you that it's just a joke, Kuri-san, but I know he left. He left my spare gi in front of my door this morning. I'm sure if he hadn't meant to leave, he'd have not worried about returning it so quickly," he watched Kuri wince at his words as if they hurt and he stammered, "Dai-daijoubu ka, Kuri-san?" 

"No!" she snapped, louder and harsher than she had intended to and this time Hisashi winced, but too caught up in her own worries she didn't notice, "Nothing's all right. Did he leave a note? Anything saying when he'd be back?"

As Hisashi started to shake his head no, another form appeared beside him and shooed the younger boy away. Yoshida took up residence leaning against the door facing, and he watched her intently even as he replied, "He isn't coming back."

"Of course he's coming back! Are you stupid?" she stormed, her emotions in turmoil. She was striking out in an attempt to validate her own hopes.

"What reason does he have to come back?" asked the old man abrasively.

"Me!" Her anger was now edging it's way to hysterical tears and without thinking, she blurted out, "He loves me!"

"Does he, now?" 

Yoshida's avant-garde attitude about this horrible situation just served to agitate her more and she found that she drew a great deal of comfort in simply asserting something she'd been to afraid to say out loud before.

"He does. He loves me," she repeated more calmly as she struggled to regain some semblance of control over herself.

"What makes you think that?" the old man's voice was harsh.

"He's always been there for me! He's always protected me! He loves me! I know he does! Otherwise, he wouldn't have -- he wouldn't have, " she broke off.

The old man interrupted her, "Love and protect are two different words and they mean two entirely different things."

Kuri stammered, "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. Just because he protected you doesn't mean he loves you. Not enough to come back. If he did he wouldn't have left in the first place."

"No. No that's not true!" she shook her head as if that helped her combat his contrary message, "We've been through too much. He's coming back. He has to come back!"

"Did he ever tell you?" Yoshida snapped, "Did he ever tell you that he loved you?"

She was near hysterical, "No, no! But that doesn't mean . . ."

"He told me that you were nothing but baggage for him."

His flat, matter-of-fact statement struck her harder than any blow the innkeeper had ever given her.

"That's not true," she whimpered.

"You can't run from reality forever Kuri. You have to face fact. He left you and I'm glad he did. He didn't appreciate you. You're worth more than that."

She hunched up in a little ball and continued to whimper, "No, no. You're lying," softly to herself, as if it were a mantra.

Yoshida rose and walked to the door, "I'm just telling the truth Kuri. You'll thank me one day," he added softly as he slid the door shut.

Kuri began to cry freely after he left her and she rocked back and forth in misery as she tried to come to terms with what Yoshida had said.

It couldn't be true. He did care about her. He was the first person who had cared about her. He had cared for her. Kept her safe. Like a tame rabbit. Like his pet. Not like his woman, like his pet.

He had never said anything. She had told him everything. Everything she could think of and everything she dreamed. He had never told her anything. She just knew his name and that he was a former assassin, and she'd only found out his previous occupation due to a chance encounter. She had told him that she didn't care what he had been. She thought he knew that she only cared about what he was. Not what he had been. What he was. The future was beautiful, but not without him. Not without him.

And she rocked back and forth hugging his discarded gi to her chest. It had just been laundered so it didn't even smell of him. She couldn't even claim that connection any more. He had left her. He hadn't even said goodbye. She was so easy for him to leave that he didn't even need to say goodbye. He had just walked off.

She was alone. He had left her all alone. Now she had no one. She had built a happy, safe place to live, in his shadow. She had given herself to him in everything but words. She loved him so much that at times she felt that her heart would burst with it. Now she just felt wounded and lost, and she ached because a part of her was missing. He had stolen a part of her when he had left . . . and she might not ever get it back.

No. She couldn't think like that. He was coming back. He had to come back. She squeezed her eyes tight with resolve. She would wait three days for him to come back, and then she would leave on her own journey, to find him. If he didn't come back, she was going to go get him and drag him back. There were no two ways about it. Feeling emotionally exhausted, Kuri slumped against Soujiro's abandoned sleeping mat and curled up around his gi, finding comfort in the familiar fabric. After a long while, she finally found peace in sleep.

*

It was still raining lightly when Soujiro arrived at the designated place in the Kyoto countryside. The grass was deep in the field he had chosen. It had been left fallow to grow wild and no animals had been grazed in it. The summer grass grew up to his waist, and the grain heads were heavy with both seeds and moisture, so they bent and danced lightly in the wind. By the time Soujiro had waded halfway into the field, his hakama were quite damp, and he almost second guessed his choice of location, but the sheer peace and tranquility of the location reaffirmed it. Occasionally there was a low animal noise from another field or some ambient sound from the small farmhouse over the hillock, but other than that, the silence was unbroken. As Soujiro listened idly for these sounds as he waited, he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to live in one of these sleepy little cottages and give up wandering and simply work the land. Of course, this wasn't a serious thought, but just a passing fantasy, he assured himself. He was on a journey to find the ultimate truth and he hadn't even had an inkling of it, as yet. He had no right to even think about settling. 

As it happened, he didn't even get a chance to think about these issues further, because he heard a light step in the grass behind him and turned on his heel, hand swinging down to his sword hilts automatically. As he turned to face the woman samurai, he noted that she too had shifted into guard position the moment he turned. They stood en guard for several seconds in silence before Soujiro momentarily relaxed his guard and smiled.

"Ohayo, Toyotomi-san," he greeted good-naturedly, being sure to never stray too far off guard, "I trust I didn't hurt you too badly the first time we met."

Her face was grim and set and she ignored his friendly overture, "I am glad that you decided to make this simple for both of us. You understand that this is not something I can walk away from."

A strange smile quirked on Soujiro's features as the wind breezed his hair out of his face, "I don't suppose it would matter if I said I was sorry."

The woman snorted and her hand went down to touch her sword hilt as a reactionary measure.

The boy ronin shrugged, "I had assumed so. I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way then," he flowed smoothly into a battou-juutsu stance.

The woman was no fool and she mirrored him, her attention riveted to his sword hand, "I see you're carrying two swords now. Do you think that will make beating me any easier?"

Soujiro laughed easily and shook his head, "Maa, Toyotomi-san, I'm not an idiot. Two swords simply suit my purposes today."

She did not reply to his flippant explanation, but simply tensed herself. From all reports the boy wasn't used to fighting with two swords. That would make him an easier target, especially considering the wound in his sword arm. Her own wound still bothered her, but she'd been well bandaged and nursed. She doubted that he was as good for the wear. When she had left him in the alley, she had thought he was as good as dead. It had been a shock when the letter in smooth round hand had arrived on her doorstep detailing the specifics of this encounter, the final encounter. That little girl must have taken good care of him. It was a horrible shame that the girl had gotten dragged into this. It just went to show how small the world was. She had had no idea of the connection until a shadow in the alley had caught her eye and directed her attentions to the darkness. Still, she couldn't think about that. As much as she liked the girl, she'd waited too long for vengeance. When the Tenken had been part of the Juppongatana he had been too well guarded, out of reach, and too strong. When rumors had spread around Kyoto that he was now wandering, alone and confused, she had known that it was finally time for honor to be served. No matter what the cost, her honor would be cleansed. Her husband would be avenged. Finally, she might have some peace in her life.

When she drew it was sudden, lightning quick and there was barely a whisper as the long Japanese sword came out of its scabbard. Soujiro was ready for her and with a smoothness that came from years of practice, he drew the katana. Noriko still marked him as slow from his injury and she saw that as fluid as his draw was, it was still too slow. He wasn't fast enough to draw both swords and still counter her attack. She raced across the short expanse of grass and sent her sword cleanly for his head, its speed accelerated by an extra push from her own right hand, wrapped in linen, against the unsharpened side of the blade. He was not ready to block it. The fight would end as swiftly and painlessly as that.

And then a movement caught the corner of her eye and suddenly with a sharp clash the katana was there to counter the nihontou, wielded effortlessly in the boy's left hand. Somehow, while she had been distracted by the wide expanse of flesh he'd left open and undefended, his kantana had shifted hands -- which meant his right hand was free for -- and then she felt the hard sharp pain of the iaitou's butt under her chin, knocking her teeth together. She tasted blood in her mouth and feel back, dazedly, and suddenly he wasn't there anymore, but she traced his impacts on the ground to his new location, and he stood several dozen feet away from her, calmly sheathing both swords as the rain delicately beat a gentle rhythm on the grass around him, causing the grain heads to nod as if in approval. His stance was relaxed.

She fell back into another guard and watched for him to shift into attack stance again, spitting blood and feeling for broken teeth with her tongue. Soujiro was still for a moment more, then he spoke.

"I don't want to kill you."

This halted her attack momentarily, although she stayed warily on guard, she spat, "That's very noble of you, Tenken."

He was not moved at all by the insult and simply continued, "I know you have daughters."

She was infuriated, "Urusai! You have no right to talk about my family like you understand my pain and suffering!" she threw herself at him again, whispering though the grass like a breeze. This time she knew to anticipate the hand shift, but it was Soujiro who took the offensive this time, and she was forced to freeze in her tracks and take up a guard position because she could not track his movements while she herself was moving. He was a blur in the grass, but his choice of the open field for their battle had been a stupid one, in her opinion. He had no walls to throw his momentum against and bounce off of. Still, he was building up amazing speed as he flew around her, and then suddenly he was right in front of her, and he dodged right in an attempt to rake a cut against her already wounded side. She guarded against the katana only to realize it was a feint a second too late. He was behind her and her back was unprotected and she gritted her teeth for the oncoming razor strike that would burn like fire, but it didn't come, and she was beginning to wonder if the boy had really meant what he said when she was suddenly clubbed hard across the back. The force of the blow knocked her forward into the loamy mud that was developing in the field. Soujiro retreated a few steps backward and simply watched her as the rain only worsened.

Noriko struggled back onto her knees and coughed. Soujiro didn't let her get to her feet before he continued.

"I know you have daughters and I know what it's like to be raised without a mother. Would you doom your daughters to grow up untended to? Then they might end up like me," he finished softly.

"My daughters are not like you! How dare you stain their honor? I do not raise killers!" she raged as she struggled to stand.

"No, I'm sure you don't, but the world does. I was not born a killer. No one is born a killer. The world makes killers."

"That's no excuse for who you are and what you've done!"

"I didn't say it was," he remarked absently, staring at the sky, "There are no excuses for what I've done, and there is no way for me to negate what I did in the past, but I'm trying to pay penance for it now. I'm trying to live by protecting someone else. I promised her I wouldn't kill you."

Noriko tried to banish the image of the smiling adolescent girl from her mind but she found she couldn't, "Where is she?"

His smile only widened as he squeezed his eyes against the rain, "Safe, a long way from here. I left her and now I know I probably won't be going back to her. When I found her, you know, the world was trying its best to break her spirit, but she never let it. No matter what happened, she was always there. Her spirit is a rock you can cling to when you're lost and her voice is a beacon that shows the way," he shook his head ruefully, "Sometimes I wish things had turned out differently, but she'll move on. She has to, because I'm not going to fight you any more," he took off his swords and tossed them aside, "I deserve whatever punishment you give me. I had hoped that there was a way that we could resolve this bloodlessly, but I know it will never end until one of us dies. You have children to look after. There's nothing else binding me here."

Noriko listened incredulously as he spoke and didn't believe him until he tossed his katana and iaitou to the side. Then the impact of his words struck her full force. She could have her revenge. Her honor would be restored. Her husband would be at peace. It was all so easy . . . but then, what about the girl that she knew would search endlessly for this boy once she realized he was missing? The boy ronin apparently truly believed that she would move on, but Noriko knew with first hand experience exactly how hard it was to move on. Would she now inflict the same pain she had felt on a girl she had ever so briefly thought of as her daughter? But the man who knelt before her was by no means innocent. He was a killer. He deserved to be punished. Here was her peace and redemption. It was in her grasp. She couldn't just throw it away.

After closing her eyes briefly, Noriko made her decision, and she brought the heavy handle of her nihontou down hard on the back of the boy's head, which was bent with resignation. With a sickening thud, he collapsed face first into the mud and was still. 


	13. A Picture of Yesterday and a Picture of ...

Tears and Rain  
  
Epilogue -- A picture of yesterday and a picture of tomorrow  
  
By Gabi  
  
The rain had stopped by the next morning and Kuri had determined that the best possible course of action was to keep herself busy for the next three days while she waited. Constantly thinking about the situation would only make her sick to her stomach again and that didn't help anyone.  
  
This decision had led her to her current task. After scrubbing the floors in most of the rooms in the house, Yoshida had finally shooed her out into the yard where she was now painstakingly weeding the carrots. She had a little hand trowel and she was down on her knees in the garden thinning the rows so the carrots that did grow would have ample space. She was so engrossed in her garden work that she almost didn't notice being overshadowed by someone standing behind her. She did notice, however, when the shadow cut off her light and made the weeding difficult.  
  
"Go away," she murmured crossly, thinking it was Yoshida, out to criticize her gardening again.  
  
The voice that answered her was soft and familiar, as warm as new milk and as soft as goose down, "I'm not going to go away. I've finally come home."  
  
The voice made her freeze still and she almost didn't want to turn around, for fear she was imagining him, but finally, she managed to steel the courage to turn and face him. She nearly shrieked with worry when she saw him.  
  
He was much the worse for wear. He had a nasty bump on the back of his head and a black eye. His new peach gi was soaked through with mud and grime and it looked from small bloodstains on the gi that he had several shallow cuts across his chest and back.  
  
Kuri made a small wordless sound and then saw him teeter uncertainly. Without thinking she moved to steady him and in this impromptu embrace, he leaned heavily on her. She found tears welling in her eyes and she didn't care to try and fight them. Supporting him as best she could, she began to lead him into the house.  
  
Yoshida was not particularly pleased when he saw that the ronin had returned, but he helped Kuri take him back into an empty examining room anyway. He scowled as he glanced over the battered wanderer and ordered Kuri to clean and wash all his wounds and then put a certain kind of salve on them. He then finished with something like, "I don't have time to treat idiots who get themselves injured," and exited the room with a less than gentle closure of the door.  
  
Soujiro shrugged out of the soiled gi and then rolled onto his stomach so she could clean the cuts on his back first.  
  
She was distressed when she saw the number of them and she cried out, "What happened to you?"  
  
He was sheepish as he spoke, "I wandered into a nasty thicket of thorns on the way back here. I'm afraid I wasn't thinking very clearly for a while."  
  
Kuri didn't answer this admission but instead concentrated on silently tending to his cuts. She didn't press him for any information and this distressed him. He had expected her to be so happy when he'd come back to her. This was a chance to start over. Instead, she was silent and tense and he could feel the hurt in the eloquent glance that she offered only at his back.  
  
"Kuri?" he ventured, but she was yet silent.  
  
"Kuri," his voice was steadier this time, and there was no question in it, "If I ever leave you again I give you permission to hunt me until the day I die."  
  
He heard her make a choked sound and felt her forehead pressed against his back. She clung to him, and as she did, he felt the light caress of two teardrops.  
  
"Kuri?" he asked concernedly, "Kuri, why are you crying?"  
  
She didn't answer for a long time, but eventually, she responded in a tiny voice, "I didn't think you were coming back."  
  
He shut his eyes. He had hurt her by leaving her. He had hurt her by trying to protect her.  
  
"Sumimasen, Kuri," his voice was so tender, "Can you forgive me?"  
  
She was silent and still she clung to his back, refusing to speak, unable to speak.  
  
Finally he said, "Will you come with me?"  
  
Her only response was pent up cry of frustration, "Soujiro no baka! Of course I'll go with you!"  
  
*  
  
Later he would tell her in great detail about waking up on his back, in the mud, in a field, as the rain finally slacked off. He would tell her how he found his katana thrust into the earth beside a message gouged into the mud. The message read "Go back to your girl, Tenken, and keep trying to find you way. I'll keep trying to find mine."  
  
In his semi-functioning, half-conscious state he had thought the message very good advice and had hastened to follow it, but these were all things he'd tell her later.  
  
Four days after he had come stumbling back into the garden, he declared that he was fit to travel again, and ignoring Kuri's protestations, he packed them up and took his leave of Yoshida as gracefully as possible. Hisashi invited them to come back whenever they were in Kyoto again and Kuri promised that they would visit.  
  
They made for the fastest way out of the city and after only an hour's walk Soujiro led them off the beaten path and up a steep hill that terminated in a cliff. He seemed quite interested in studying some charred wooden posts in the valley below, but Kuri did not press him, at least for a time.  
  
Finally, when her curiosity overcame her she ventured, "Soujiro-kun, did you ever find what you were looking for?"  
  
The question seemed to catch him off guard, yet he still smiled fondly at her as he turned his back on the panoramic view, "Iie."  
  
Pulling his arms into a comfortable position inside his gi, he turned and began to walk back down the hill.  
  
"Iie, but I think it's very close."  
  
Kuri took one last look at the burnt and twisted arches that domed a path that had fallen into disrepair before turning her back on it too. The breeze was light and the sun was warm and somewhere nearby a crow called as the slight girl fell into step a few paces behind the boy ronin.  
  
The End o.o I'm serious. The end. Please read the second story in the continuity "I'll Do My Crying In The Rain" if you're interested in finding out what happens next ^_^ 


End file.
